The Children of the Aryans
by electrons
Summary: Takes place after season three, Daryl's attempt to avoid his past has unintended consequences and puts members of the prison group in danger. Daryl has to come to terms with who he is and what he comes from to save his family. Trigger warning for racism and racial violence, bullying, child abuse, homophobia, sexism, etc. I love reviews. Sequel coming soon titled: The Blind Army
1. Liar

He was afraid. He hated it, but there it was. He closed his eyes and dreamt of soft petals under his fingers. He could smell smoke and hear loud shrill voices. He could feel flesh meeting flesh as skin split and bone took its hits. He was afraid of ghosts. He rolled over, determined to get a few hours of sleep before he was on watch. Only children were afraid of ghosts and the other boogeymen that occupied the scary stories told at night around campfires. Ghosts were dead after all; they couldn't hurt you. Then again, walkers were dead too. Daryl opened his eyes and looked up at the concrete ceiling. _What are you so afraid of little brother? You a pussy?_

…

"Hey Glenn," Daryl called. Glenn was standing by the stove talking to his sister-in-law as the blond stirred a pot of porridge. Both Glenn and Beth turned to look at Daryl as he approached and both had smiles for him. "I need to talk to you about the run tomorrow. I can't make it."

Glenn frowned. It wasn't a frown of anger or disappointment, rather it was one of genuine confusion. Daryl went on almost every run. People were so used to him going on every run in fact, that when the council was planning runs making the roster always started with the phrase: _So it'll be Daryl and who else?_ Daryl had never minded this before, but he sure as hell minded now. He would never have volunteered for this. "Is something wrong," Glenn asked.

"Nah, I just gotta go on a hunt," Daryl said.

"Why," Beth asked. "We're not low on meat."

"We will be by the time I get back. This'll take at least four days. Sides, it's dear season and I want to get as many of the rascals as possible while they're plentiful." Daryl's heart was pounding against his breastbone so hard he was sure his friends could hear it.

"Well who can we get to replace you on such short notice," Glenn asked. "I don't trust anybody inexperienced with something this important. Like you said, we'll be gone a few days."

"Michonne's due back today. She's more than able," Daryl said.

Glenn gave Daryl a doubtful look. "She never stays for more than a night. She'll want to be right back on the road come morning, hunting for the Governor. I doubt she'll do it."

"She'll do it if she sees we're in a spot. She's as loyal to the group as any of us."

"Well I guess we can ask her when she gets here," Glenn said. "Sure you can't come?"

_Flakes of ash dancing in the wind drew his eye to the white sky. The sky was white, like snow or the petals of a Cherokee rose. That wasn't right. The sky is blue. _"'M sure," Daryl said.

Glenn shrugged. "All right." That was that. He didn't question Daryl any further on the topic of the run. Daryl realized he had allowed himself to become all worked up over something that wasn't even a big deal. He was disgusted with himself. "Daryl? Earth to Daryl," Glenn said.

Daryl looked at the younger man. "Sorry, what?"

"I said Carol was looking for you earlier," Glenn said.

"Ooh, _Carol _was looking for you earlier," Beth teased as she stirred.

Daryl rolled his eyes at Beth's mockery. Half the prison was convinced that Daryl and Carol were screwing. Of course the other half was convinced that he and Michonne were screwing, so as far as he was concerned they were all idiots. "She off watch yet?"

"Yeah," Glenn said. "She went down to the well to get some water for the showers."

Beth made a face. "Yeah it's _awful_ when we run out. Especially if you don't check before you start your shower and then you're halfway through and there's _no water_. Ugh, the worst."

Daryl scoffed. "Yeah, even worse than when the maid forgets to leave one of those little chocolates on your pillow when she makes your bed every morning. Just the worst."

Glenn laughed while Beth shot daggers at Daryl with her eyes. "At least I shower."

"Yeah, you always smell minty fresh," Daryl agreed. "It ain't natural."

"I prefer minty fresh to odeur de walker guts," Beth said.

"Well we're just gonna have to agree to disagree," Daryl said. "I gotta go find Carol."

"Tell Carol I said hi," Beth called out loudly as Daryl left the kitchen, causing almost every occupant to turn their heads and look at him. Some snickered and whispered to each other.

Daryl shook his head and chuckled to himself as he made his way outside. "Brat,"

Carol was right where Glenn said she would be and plenty pleased to have someone help her carry her buckets of water to the main tank. "I wish we had a better system for this. If we were at the foot of a hill instead of on top we could use gravity. Of course then we would have to redesign our sewer system, so perhaps this is the best scenario." Carol seemed cheerful and her joy had an infectious quality that helped soothe some of the anxiety Daryl was experiencing as a result of the worries that had kept him up last night, or perhaps it was early this morning.

"Hm," Daryl responded.

"Something on your mind?"

Daryl shook his head. "Just like listenin to ya talk," he said.

Carol laughed, but she wasn't laughing at _him_. She was just laughing. Daryl had learned to tell the difference. "I don't think I've ever heard that before. My voice is hardly soothing."

Daryl shrugged. "Ain't got nothing to do with that. Lots of folks talk just cause they're afraid of the quiet. You ain't like that. You always got something worthwhile to say."

Carol smiled at him. "Idle chatter never served me well."

Daryl nodded. It had never done much for him either. "Glenn said you wanted somethin."

Carol nodded. "Judith will be teething soon. That'll be hell on everybody if we don't plan for it. I want you to look for teething rings and certain meds while you're on this run," she said.

Daryl frowned. "Best talk to Glenn about that. I ain't going tomorrow."

Carol gave Daryl an inquisitive look. "Any particular reason why?"

"I got a hunt," Daryl said.

Carol narrowed her eyes. She saw right through him. She always did. In that moment Daryl wished Carol was as guileless as Glenn. Of course then she wouldn't be Carol. "Why do you have to go tomorrow?" Carol's tone was casual, but Daryl knew she would pick apart every word he said, turning them over in her mind as she tried to decipher their real meaning.

The lie popped into his head and he went with it. "I'm going to teach Carl tracking."

Carol pursed her lips. "Is that so?"

"Well, we're still trying to convince his old man. But he's close to givin in and if I postpone the date we'll lose all our headway." Daryl pretended to be fascinated with the tree line.

"Since when are you so invested in teaching Carl hunting?"

Daryl shrugged. "Kid's going stir crazy. I thought I would help him out is all."

"He seems fine to me."

Daryl continued to avoid her gaze. He knew that if he looked at her she would see the lie written all over his face. "We all need our space sometimes, Carl as much as anyone. He may be a kid, but he ain't like those ones you read to at story time. He needs to be treated like an adult every now and again. I figure this'll let him blow off some steam before he and Rick get into it."

Carol didn't say anything so after a few moments Daryl forced himself to look at her and see the doubt on her features. Once their eyes locked she spoke. "Are you lying to me?"

Daryl shook his head, a deep guilt settling into his gut. "No,"

Carol shrugged. "Okay, I'll talk to Glenn about the teething."

_She trusts you asshole. She smells the horseshit all over you, but she trusts you so she's gonna go with it. You've got the trust of a good woman and you're using it to lie to her._

…

"So let me get this straight." Rick was standing in front of a barrel of water splashing the cool liquid onto his face. He grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat and water away before turning to face Daryl. They were right outside Rick's garden, with a great view of his peas. "You want to use my son as a tool so you can lie to Carol?" Rick was holding back a smirk as he spoke.

Daryl sighed. "'S about the size of it. The kid's always wanted to learn anyways."

Rick nodded, unable to contain a chuckle. "So what's this big lie?"

"Ain't no point in lyin about it if I gotta tell you," Daryl pointed out.

Rick was still smirking. It was starting to get annoying. "Is it something bad?"

"Just don't want to tell her the truth is all. Man's gotta have some secrets. It's hard enough keeping anything to yourself around here. Everyone's so close together."

Rick nodded, conceding that this was true. "Well… Carl has always wanted to learn."

"I'll keep an eye on im, you don't gotta worry about that."

Rick waved his hand like the thought was an annoying fly. "I know he's safe with you."

"So I can take im?"

Rick bit his lip. "He's been doing well lately. I think he's… settling. I guess I'm a little worried that I'll let him outside the gates and he'll come back having lost all his progress."

Daryl nodded. He wasn't going to ask Rick to gamble his son's mental well-being for his stupid secret. If Rick said no that would be that. He'd just have to tell Carol that he and Carl failed to convince Rick. He'd have to buy the kid's silence though. "All right," Daryl said.

Rick gave Daryl an appraising look. "Are you okay?"

Daryl frowned. "Course I am, why wouldn't I be?"

Rick shrugged. "Just not like you is all, lying to Carol."

Now Daryl was really annoyed. "I told ya-"

Rick cut him off. "I know, I know. It's your business. Anyway, you can take Carl."

That threw him for a loop. "Really?"

Rick nodded. "He has to go outside the fence at some point and I know exactly what'll happen if I'm the one that takes him. I'll be watching his every move, he'll be all defensive, we'll be at each other's throats in five minutes and it'll be a huge mess. You take him and let me know how he does. He won't be so on guard around you." Rick splashed water onto his shirt.

"Thanks," Daryl said.

"Do you need to talk? I know it's a secret, but if there's anything-"

"I gotta go actually. I'll see ya later."

…

Daryl was on watch in the guard tower when he heard footsteps on the ladder. He knew who it was by the sound of her tread. She came in quietly and moved to stand next to him without a word. Just as he loved Carol's talking Daryl loved Michonne's silence. He knew that sounded bad, but he had a feeling that if he ever told her she'd understand. Some people felt awkward in the quiet, but not Michonne. They could spend hours together, following a trail, waiting out a storm or standing watch, and it would never be tense or filled with pointless distracting chatter. When Michonne spoke it was to say something important, and he never felt pressured to speak when he was with her. It was nice. They stood like that for five minutes before he initiated conversation. "No sign of him?" Daryl didn't look at her when he questioned her, and that was another great thing about her; she never insisted he look at her when speaking.

"If he was ever there he didn't leave a sign. But it's possible he went through."

Daryl grunted in acknowledgement. "You woulda seen somethin. He ain't a light touch."

"Hmm," Just like that the conversation was over. There was no need for either of them to draw it out or provide closure. They both said what they wanted to say. Daryl had kept his eyes on the trees the whole time. Ten minutes went by before she spoke again. "Why don't you want to go on the run tomorrow?" Michonne cut to the point with her words as well as she did with her sword, and this question was the first time Daryl had ever not been grateful for that.

"No reason,"

"Liar," Michonne said in a genial tone.

Daryl scoffed. _These women can see right through me. No wonder everybody thinks I'm sleeping with them. When did I become so damn transparent?_ "Whatever you say," he said.

"Did something happen on the last run?"

"Nah, picked up a new guy. That's all. Name's Bob; you should meet him."

"He good people?"

"Think so, combat medic. Useful skills."

"Especially now."

Daryl released a loud breath, but didn't reply in any meaningful way.

"It's far. Be gone four days at least. Something you want to be here for?"

"'M taking Carl hunting."

"Rick okayed that?" Michonne sounded surprised.

"Gotta go out sometime." The nighttime chill was burrowing into Daryl's bones, and he considered pulling on his poncho, but he didn't want to move. "We'll only be gone a few hours."

"Seems like something that could wait."

"Figured you could handle it."

Michonne snorted in annoyance. That was the first break in her calm demeanor, but like a pool of still water once the ripples started the surface never really immobilized again. "So I'm just supposed to let him run free while you and Carl go on a nice nature hike," Michonne asked.

Daryl felt the guilt again. He wondered if keeping this secret was really worth lying to the people closest to him. Well, in for a penny in for a pound. There was no need to clarify on who the 'him' was. They both knew. That was how they'd gotten so close to begin with, chasing the Governor together. "It ain't like that Michonne. Anyways, you could use a break. It ain't so good to be away from people all the time. Spending some time with Glenn, Maggie and Sasha could be good for ya." Daryl chanced an awkward glance at her, but she was faced away from him.

Minutes went by and it still wasn't awkward. She would reply when she wanted to. A lot of people would get nervous when faced with a protracted silence from an aggravated conversation partner, but Daryl knew the longer she was silent the less likely her reply was to be an angry one. Michonne used the quiet to calm down, not to stew. "Don't pretend this is me."

"I'm not. I just…" Daryl glanced at her again and this time she met his gaze.

"Give me something. It doesn't have to be everything."

Daryl nodded. "I can't go. If you won't cover for me and I can't find someone else I'll go with em. But I… I don't think anything good will come of it. I think it'll be real bad."

Michonne nodded. "Then I'll go," she said.

Daryl couldn't hide his surprise. "Just like that?"

She smiled at him. She could be so warm at times. She hid under the still cool water that was her countenance, but a fire burned under there and it warmed him. "Just like that."

"Thank you."

She looked to the trees again. "You'd do the same for me."

…

"Tell me what you see." Daryl hadn't expected Carl to be disappointed when he told the boy he was taking him hunting, but he hadn't anticipated just how excited he would be. Carl had been up at the crack of dawn and ready to go. Rick had hesitated before returning Carl's gun, but only for a moment and Carl had accepted it with all due solemnity. Now they were about a mile out from the prison surrounded by trees. The clean air and forest sounds were doing a lot to clear Daryl's head. Teaching Carl was the perfect distraction from his harried thoughts.

"Where?"

"Look for a minute before you ask for a hint," Daryl said. Daryl's admonishment was not in a cruel voice. It sounded more like a suggestion than a reprimand. Carl took that well.

After a few seconds Carl pointed. "There?"

"Good, what is it?"

Carl scrunched up his face. "Tracks, small… Is it a squirrel?"

"Bigger," Daryl said.

"Um… Rabbit?"

"That just a guess?"

Carl blushed. "Yeah," he said.

"Well it was a good one, cause that's what it is."

Carl grinned at his teacher. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Doing this, taking me out here. I needed it. My dad he… He's been kind of intense."

"He's just worried about ya."

Carl nodded. Daryl could never figure out what it was that made people want to open up to him. He didn't realize it was the fact he didn't pressure them to do so. "I know. I just wish he trusted me. I love my dad and I know he loves me. Sometimes though… I think he wishes he didn't love me, that somebody else was his kid, somebody he didn't have to be ashamed of."

Daryl stopped dead in his tracks and turned to look at Carl. Carl seemed a little surprised by the sudden attention. A lot of the time talking to Daryl was like talking to one's self, without the stigma attached to doing so. Daryl rarely felt the need to comment. "That ain't true."

Carl shrugged. "I know he's disappointed in me."

Daryl shook his head. "You know jackshit if you think your dad's ashamed of you or disappointed in you. Your dad is crazy proud of you. You needed to grow up fast. You did."

"I shot that kid. He's still mad at me about it."

Daryl snorted dismissively. "He ain't mad at you, he's mad at himself."

Carl was starting to get frustrated. "How do you know?"

Daryl shrugged. "I don't know anything. You've got no reason to listen to me. But I ain't never seen somebody as proud of their boy as your dad is of you. He sees the way you look after your sister, the way you never shy away from a task just cause it's hard. He thinks there ain't ever been a better kid than you and I'm inclined to agree with him." Daryl looked up at the sky and for a moment it was white. It was snow and the petals of a Cherokee rose. "If your dad weren't proud of you he wouldn't bother watching you, wouldn't think you worth the effort."

Carl stared at Daryl. "You're really smart sometimes."

Daryl was still looking at the sky. It was blue again, always had been. Daryl looked down at his young charge. "Sometimes huh? I'll remember that." Daryl chuckled when Carl stuck his tongue out at him. He really was still a kid. Daryl had to remember to tell Rick that.

"You know what I meant."

"I know we ain't gonna catch anything if we stand here jawin all day."

Carl smiled. "Let's go find that rabbit."


	2. Refugee

The sun ascended into the sky and Daryl's heart sank with it, almost as if the two were on a counterweight system. The run team had been due back at midday yesterday and now that it was dawn they were officially more than half a day late. Daryl stood in the guard tower staring at the road, willing Glenn to come driving up to the gate. Daryl put his binoculars down and made his way down the ladder. He knew the people he wanted to find would be outside C block awake even at this early hour. He was right. Hershel, Carol, Rick and Tyreese were seated at a table staring silently at a map. Daryl knew they had been waiting for him. He didn't bother with greeting them. "I'm going after them," Daryl said as he entered the room. That was all he wanted to say or needed to say. Daryl didn't sit down with his friends, but stood a ways away, closer to the exit than to them. They all turned to face him with anxious expressions.

"They could have just been delayed," Carol said.

"Yeah, maybe they stopped at Disney World on the way here," Daryl said.

Rick sighed. "We don't know why they're late, just that they are. We need to hope for the best but plan for the worst." Rick stood. "We leave now we can get most of the way there today."

Daryl shook his head. "No, you're not going, just me."

Rick sighed. "Daryl whatever is holding back the run team is something neither Michonne, Glenn, Maggie nor Sasha could get around. Those four are some of our best fighters, best shots, best planners. Whatever delayed them might not be something you can handle alone."

Daryl scowled, but he knew Rick was right. He just hated the idea of Rick putting himself at risk when this situation was his fault. "You ain't been on a run in a while," Daryl said.

"I remember how it works," Rick said with a slight hint of exasperation in his tone.

"I'll go," Tyreese volunteered.

Daryl shook his head at the same time Rick replied. "No."

"Sasha's my sister," Tyreese said.

"You're not a regular member of the run rotation," Carol said. "We all have the utmost respect for you Tyreese, but you're not exactly as good a shot as your sister either. If this were a normal run there would be no issue with you going, but Rick and Daryl know the terrain and the procedure better than you do. You can do more good here and I know Sasha would appreciate you helping the council out while she's indisposed." A baby's cries interrupted their conversation, but soon the sound of Beth's soft singing started up and the cries died down.

Daryl didn't want to talk anymore. He wanted to find them. "Let's get going."

"I'll meet you at the gate in five minutes," Rick said.

Daryl nodded. He saw Hershel sitting at the table, staring at the map again. The older man hadn't said a word throughout the entire discussion. Daryl wanted to say something to the man he had so much respect for, some words of comfort. Daryl had never been good with comfort though and he found himself just staring silently. As if Hershel felt Daryl's eyes on him he looked up at the younger man. Hershel managed to produce a weak smile. "You'll find them."

Daryl nodded. "I will." Rick had left to go say goodbye to Carl, and Carol and Tyreese had both gone to attend to tasks that needed doing. Daryl and Hershel were alone.

"You're not blaming yourself are you?"

Daryl shrugged. "I was supposed to be on that run."

Hershel nodded. "Maybe it's best you weren't. You're here to go after them. We don't always understand God's plan while we're living it, but things have a way of working out."

Daryl frowned. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to that, or even what he could say to that. "Glenn and Maggie are good at taking care of themselves, and each other."

"That they are. They'll stay safe until you find them." Hershel stood up and then hobbled over to Daryl. He put his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "You stay safe as well."

Daryl felt uncomfortable both with Hershel's concern and with his touch. "I'ma go to the gate; be ready when Rick gets there." Daryl escaped to the freedom and solitude of the outdoors.

…

The new guy, Bob, was on gate duty when Daryl and Rick left. Daryl nodded to him as he drove out and Bob gave him a very friendly smile and wave combo in return. When Bob had first seen the prison he had been stunned. He was in awe of the number of people living within the walls and the relative safety they all enjoyed. _You've done something amazing here. _Bob had jumped right in, volunteering for any job that needed doing. That was why he was currently on the undesirable gate duty. People hated gate duty because it was boring and involved standing in the sun for long stretches of time. At least on watch you could sit down and were protected from the elements by the guard tower. Bob didn't seem to mind though. Daryl had nothing to do for the next twelve hours except be alone with his thoughts, a prospect he hated. The closer he and Rick got to their destination the less control he had over his musings. _I didn't raise my little brother to be afraid of no damn ghosts. Stop being a little girl and grow a pair. _Daryl looked up and shivered. The sky was white. Daryl wanted to close his eyes and block the sight, but not only was that a terrible idea on account of the fact that he was driving, but it also wouldn't work.

When the sun started to go down Daryl was loathe to pull over, but he knew it wasn't safe to drive at night. If Daryl had been alone he might have, probably would have, done it anyway, but he wasn't going to put Rick's life at risk. _Enough people have been put at risk because of me._ Daryl waited until the last swathes of pink were fading from the sky before he pulled over to the side of the road. Rick pulled over behind a tree and placed a large black tarp over the car. Daryl parked his bike behind the car. At night it would be next to impossible to spot the vehicles unless you were actively looking for them. The two men made their way into the forest to camp out of sight of the road. Daryl set to making a fire without so much as looking at Rick, and Rick, for his part, respected Daryl's desire for silence. Rick set up the perimeter for their camp and then started preparing dinner. Daryl slipped away to check the general vicinity for walkers that might stumble onto their camp. Daryl found no walkers, but he did kill a squirrel.

When Daryl returned to camp Rick had finished heating up a can of chili and eaten his half of the food. Rick was sitting in front of the fire and as Daryl took a seat next to Rick so he could see what he was doing as he skinned his kill Rick held the can out to him. "'m good."

Rick sighed. "Daryl," he said.

"Want some squirrel?"

"I'll eat half of your squirrel if you eat the rest of this chili."

Daryl gave Rick an annoyed look, but he took the can. "You're worse than Carol."

Rick smirked. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Daryl grunted as he speared the squirrel and set it to roasting.

Rick watched Daryl pick at the chili. "Why didn't you want to go on the run?"

"No good reason, definitely not something worth putting them at risk."

"You didn't put them at risk. Michonne is just as capable as you are. Whatever happened to them, I'm sure it had nothing to do with you not going on the run," Rick assured Daryl.

"Hm," Daryl replied as he scooped chili into his mouth.

"I'm not trying to invade your privacy. But if this is something serious-"

"I grew up there." The words just spilled from his mouth. "These runs have been going further and further out, but I never thought about… Carol found it on a survey map. It ain't even really a town, just an unincorporated community. It ain't on most maps because it's so damn small, doesn't even have a high school. Carol thought there might still be supplies there since it being so out of the way and hard to find means it might not have been scavenged yet. When we were planning the run Glenn just assumed I would go and I couldn't think of a good reason to say otherwise. The closer it got though… I just couldn't do it. I know that's stupid-"

"It isn't," Rick said firmly. "It's not stupid. Seeing what happened to my hometown, after I woke up at the hospital, when I went back for those guns, it was rough. There's no reason to put yourself through that if you don't have to. The possibility of seeing a walker that was somebody you knew… No one would want to subject themselves to that. I wish you'd told me."

Daryl sighed. He put the empty can down. "I ain't been back there since I was a kid."

Rick tried to meet Daryl's eyes, but Daryl wouldn't look at him. "Why," Rick asked.

"When I was seventeen my dad died, drank himself to death. I went to go live with Merle and I… never looked back. We never talked about him or about where we grew up. We talked about some things… Merle was always going on about how he looked after me and about how much I owed him. Made me feel like I couldn't leave or ever… stand up to him. I mean I always felt like that, but I thought it would be different when I was an adult. I thought I would wake up on my eighteenth birthday and I would be different. I would get a job and move away and do something with my life." Daryl laughed; there was no humor in it. "Merle woke me up and took me hunting. Then we both got wasted and passed out. Nothing changed. Nothing ever changed."

Rick was silent for a little while, processing this. "Until it did."

Daryl flushed. "I don't know why I told you any of that."

"Because you can," Rick said. "You don't have to hide things from me."

"Hm," Daryl pretended to be fascinated with the fire.

"What about your mom? What happened to her?"

Daryl stared at the flames. The squirrel meat was blackening. Daryl wondered if that was what had happened to his mother. Had she roasted in the same way that his dinner currently was?

Rick seemed to sense something was off. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"'M going to bed." Daryl got to his feet.

"What about the rest of your dinner?"

"You eat it. I'm not hungry. Wake me up when it's my watch."

That night, until Rick woke him up to stand watch, Daryl dreamt about a white sky and black flesh. He saw a field of flowers. _Do you know what this is Daryl? It's a Cherokee rose._

…

When Daryl and Rick arrived at the small collection of homes and businesses that wasn't even worthy of the title of town they saw nothing. No Michonne, no Glenn, no Maggie, no Sasha, no walkers dead or alive and no sign of any living soul. "It's so quiet," Rick said.

"Somebody must have cleared it out," Daryl said.

"Maybe they're still here," Rick said.

Daryl shivered. He knew that odds were whoever had cleared out the area was a refugee just like them and not anybody he knew, but he still didn't like the idea of running into anybody in this place. Daryl and Rick left their vehicles and approached the closest building. Two large works of graffiti marred the face of the building. One was a painting of a red eagle and the other was made of red spray paint and contained a giant A and N. The letters had bled wet paint before they had dried. It was a gruesome sight. "I wonder what it means," Rick said.

"Aryan nation," Daryl said. Rick turned and gave Daryl an odd look. "There was a local… not a gang really, just stupid kids. They were really into white supremacy."

"What's with the eagle?"

"It's a Nazi thing," Daryl said.

"Nice place," Rick said.

"You have no idea," Daryl muttered.

Rick flinched. He looked at Daryl. "Hey I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"We should keep quiet," Daryl said.

They walked in silence for a minute or two before they came across a small store riddled with bullet holes. The store was right across the street from a church and when Daryl looked over at the building where his mom had taught Sunday school and taken him to worship every Sunday before she died he saw a flash of light in the steeple. "Get down," he hissed. Daryl pulled Rick towards the cover afforded by the building. The shots started as they ran to safety.

The two men flattened themselves against the wall. "Damn," Rick swore.

"Want to bet those are the same assholes delaying our people?"

"Seems like a fair assumption," Rick said.

"The hell we gonna do now?"

"Rick," A loud whisper came from the back of the building. "Daryl,"

The two men carefully made their way toward the familiar voice. "Michonne," Rick said.

At the back of the store Michonne was holding a door open and gesturing to her friends to follow her inside. They quickly did so. Michonne slammed the door shut and began to pile boxes and chairs in front of it. Rick and Daryl helped. "Thanks for coming," Michonne said.

"Who are the people in the church," Rick asked.

"No idea," Michonne said. "But I don't think they like us."

"What happened," Daryl asked.

"They just started shooting at us. We took shelter in here. If any of them leave the church from an exit we can see we shoot at them and vice versa. It's a stalemate for now, but we'll probably run out of ammo before they do. We don't know what they want," Michonne said.

Michonne led them into a room where Glenn stood over Maggie with a tight grip on his rifle, a tense expression on his face. Sasha was sitting down with a bloody bandage wrapped around her arm, but a pistol in her hand none the less. They both looked prepared to go down shooting if need be. Glenn's face melted in relief when he saw them. Maggie sat up and they saw the bandage wrapped around her thigh. Her face was twisted in pain. "Hey guys," she said.

"You okay," Rick asked.

"I've been better, but I'm all right. Bastards shot me in the leg."

"That's why we haven't left," Michonne said. "We'd never make it."

"These people want us dead and we don't know why," Glenn said.

"Have you tried talking to them," Rick asked.

"Gee, why didn't we think of that," Sasha said. "Is it because the second any of us goes anywhere near those windows at the front of the store they start shooting at us?"

"Sorry," Rick said. "Dumb question,"

Sasha sighed and shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. Pain makes me testy."

"Understandable reaction," Daryl said.

"Maybe now we can go for it," Maggie said. "Daryl and Rick can lay down cover fire and you and Michonne can help me get to the car." Maggie twisted in discomfort as she spoke.

"It's too risky," Sasha said. "We got lucky the first time. A little to the right and they would have got me in the heart. A little higher they would have got you in the gut. Then we would really be up the creek without a paddle." Sasha flinched, looking at her arm.

"Sasha's right," Rick said. "We can't take the chance."

"The only way we all get out of here for sure is if we take these assholes out," Daryl said.

"You got a plan," Sasha asked.

"Rick and I sneak out the back and go around to the back of the church where the lookout can't see us. We sneak in through the root cellar, it leads straight into the kitchen. There probably won't be too many people in there. We clear the whole building one room at a time and then come back for y'all. With those people gone we'll be able to just walk out of here," Daryl said.

Glenn gave Daryl a very confused look. "How do you know there's a root cellar in the back and that it leads right into the kitchen?" Glenn glanced at Maggie, who was equally baffled.

Daryl looked at the ground. His shoulders were hunched and he refused to meet the eyes of his companions. This had been easier to confess when it was just him and Rick. Now there were five people listening to him. "I used to live here. I was born here. That's why I didn't want to go on the run with you. There were too many memories. I never thought… I didn't mean to put all of you at risk. I'm sorry. I just couldn't face this place again. My mom taught Sunday school at that church. She used to go down to the cellar to get snacks for the kids."

Daryl looked up, still afraid, but needing to see their reactions. Sasha spoke first. "Do you know the people in that church?" Shock decorated her face, but she focused on the task at hand.

"I don't know. I doubt it. With this thing most people didn't end up where they started."

"It doesn't matter anyway," Michonne said. "Daryl's right, we have to kill them."

"So we will," Rick said. "You guys wait here, Daryl and I will take care of it."

"I'm going with you," Glenn said.

"No," Michonne said. "We've all been through hell these last few days, we're spent."

"We'd be a bigger liability than help," Sasha said. "We'll stay here and watch Maggie."

Glenn bit his lip in aggravation, but then nodded. "Good luck."

Daryl nodded. "We'll be right back."

Daryl started for the back exit and Rick followed. When the two men were outside Rick put his hand on Daryl's shoulder to still him. Daryl looked at Rick. His eyes flitted from place to place, desperate for something to focus on other than Rick. "Do you think you may know them?"

"It doesn't matter either way," Daryl said.

"Maybe you could talk to them."

Daryl chuckled darkly. "The people that lived here got no love for me."

"But they knew you, before. That counts for something."

"Rick, if I saw one of the people that lived here when I did I would shoot them on sight, no questions asked. I doubt they feel any different about me. I know they don't. Let's go."

Daryl refused to look at Rick for the rest of their silent trek. They snuck around to the back of the church, using Daryl's knowledge of the geography to make sure they weren't seen on the way there. Daryl used his knife and a large stick to pry the hinges off of one of the doors to the padlocked cellar. Rick and Daryl looked into the darkness. Daryl heard Rick take a deep breath next to him. "Are you sure about this?" Rick sounded nervous about braving the dark.

"Best way in," Daryl said.

Rick nodded and then started toward the stairs.

Daryl put a hand on Rick's chest, stopping him. "Me first."

There was no time to argue. Daryl was already softly descending the stairs into the dark recesses of the cellar and his own mind. He was thinking about helping his mother prepare snacks for her class. He'd been more of a hindrance than a help, a toddler with grubby fingers and a big stomach. Perhaps his preoccupation was why he didn't hear the person in the cellar until she had a pistol pressed against his head. "Do you have any last words asshole?"

Daryl's heart sank. He knew that voice. He spoke to her in a quiet croak. "Hey Cassy."

"Holy shit, Dixon?!"


	3. Captive

Light filled the darkened cellar and Daryl saw that he and Rick were surrounded by six people, all with guns pointed at them. One of those people was a long-legged fair woman with long blond hair and cold blue eyes. She was laughing. "God, what's it been? Twenty years?"

Daryl looked back at Rick, who was staring at Daryl. They both knew how screwed they were and that Daryl talking them out of this was their only chance for survival. "Almost."

Cassy laughed again. "You guys remember baby Dixon right?"

One of the men, a brunette with an easy, cruel smile replied. "Hell yeah."

"Where's your brother," another man asked. He had hard green eyes.

"Dead," Daryl said. "Some asshole shot him."

"Damn shame," the easy smile said. "I always liked Merle."

"Who didn't like Merle," Cassy asked. "He's a likable guy, or he was."

"Yeah, a real fun guy," green eyes said.

Cassy smiled at Daryl, a broad, ecstatic smile. "Why did you come back mutt?"

Daryl flinched at the slur. "Some of my people went missing."

"Your people?" Cassy sounded incredulous. "Your people are all dead."

"I meant some people from my group. They were on a run… I didn't think that anybody would still be here. Everywhere else has been abandoned. I never dreamed… I never would have come here if I knew y'all were here. It was a mistake. Just let us go Cassy. We didn't mean it."

Cassy laughed again. "You haven't learned a thing have you? Not a damn thing."

Daryl chanced a look at Rick. He was standing absolutely still with his hands in the air, his eyes on their captors. Daryl knew he was ready to draw his weapon at a moment's notice just as he knew they would both die if it came to that. "Just let them go then, I'll stay," Daryl said.

Cassy gestured to the two men who had spoken before. "Disarm them." Cassy watched her men disarm Daryl and Rick. "Tell me Dixon, what the hell would I want with a damn mutt?"

"I don't know. I never did," Daryl said. He looked at the blue-eyed woman, only a few years older than him, and remembered his past. He remembered another pair of eyes, shiny and green, not hard like Tommy's, who had just taken his bow. He stared at this ghost.

She almost seemed to read his mind. "We haven't seen anybody in a long time. It's been kind of boring around here to be honest. We get a few walkers now and again, but they don't put up much of a fight. They don't yell. They don't cry. It's so… monotonous. I suppose a high school dropout like you doesn't know what the word monotonous means huh?"

"I know what it means," Daryl said in a resigned voice.

"Did your mommy teach you? I bet she taught you a lot of things."

"You don't know shit," Daryl said with sudden venom in his voice.

Cassy laughed again. She took a rifle off of her back and in one fluid motion jammed the butt of the weapon into Daryl's gut. "Shut up half-breed. You need to learn your damn place."

Daryl felt all of the air escape his body and he gasped. He would have fallen over if Rick hadn't grabbed his shoulder. "Ain't that cute," the easy smile said. "Look at the lovebirds."

Cassy snickered. "Damn cute. Tommy, go relieve Greg from watch. The rest of y'all get these two into the main room. We're finally going to get to have a little fun around here."

The man with green eyes left while the rest of Cassy's men escorted Daryl and Rick into the main room of the church. The two men were ordered to sit in a pew right in front of the altar and then their hands were cuffed in front of them. The four men took seats on the altar steps while Cassy stood with her hands on her hips in front of Daryl and Rick. A moment later a fifth man, presumably Greg from the steeple, joined them. "You shouldn't have come here mutt."

Once again Daryl flinched from Cassy's words. "I know," he whispered.

"Do you have any idea what we're going to do to you? Your brother isn't here to protect you any more. It's just you and us, and you made it very clear you aren't one of us."

"You never gave me a chance." Daryl didn't meet her gaze. He was remembering bright green eyes and dirty blond hair. How much of that dirty was the color of the hair and how much actual dirt was something Daryl never figured out. The sky was white. "You never did."

"That's a lie," easy smile said in a jovial shout. "Your brother was one of us. He was just as much of a mutt as you were. But he picked a damn side and stuck to it. You didn't follow the rules featherhead. You got to follow the damn rules. But you just couldn't do it, could you?"

Daryl kept his eyes on the ground. "I guess not."

"Hey!" Daryl jumped at the sound of Cassy's voice. She slapped him, hard. "Look at us when we're talking to you mutt." Daryl looked up at the fair woman's cruel features.

"What do you want from us," Rick asked.

Cassy turned her attention to Rick. "What's your name?"

Rick appraised the woman. "Rick Grimes."

"What are you Rick Grimes? German? Irish? Anglican?"

Rick stared at Cassy like she'd grown a third head. "What does it matter?"

Cassy gestured to herself and her men. "We're Aryans. We're the superior race."

Rick scoffed. "Right,"

Cassy smiled at Rick, like she had been hoping for that reaction. "No it's true, why don't you tell him half-breed? Go on." Cassy prodded Daryl's shoulder with her rifle barrel.

Daryl flinched when the gun touched him. "What do you want me to say?"

Cassy seemed to lose interest in Daryl. She was examining Rick. Her eyes touched every part of him. "Your friend here likes to pretend, but he's a red man. His mother was a damned prairie-nigger. Can you believe that? He's got the stench of the buffalo in his blood."

Rick looked from Daryl to the blond like he couldn't really believe the situation he found himself in. Daryl supposed a civilized man like Rick who came from civilized places hadn't been exposed much to that kind of language. "You people are insane," Rick said. "How have you even survived this long with these kinds of screwed up priorities? Who gives a shit about this kind of nonsense anymore? You've got legions of dead coming for you and you're worried about _race_?"

Cassy smiled. "We are God's chosen people. He has sent this plague down to punish the unworthy and cleanse the world of the unclean races. We are his humble servants in all ways."

"Oh yeah," Rick said. "Definitely crazy."

Cassy's smile only grew. "Are your people still in the store?" Neither Rick nor Daryl answered Cassy, but she didn't seem to mind. "Do you think they would come out to save your worthless lives? Would they sacrifice their freedom to keep your blood in your bodies?"

"No," Daryl said immediately. "You should just leave them be."

Cassy slung the rifle over her shoulder again and pulled out a knife. "We caught a glimpse of them when they were running away. Pretty sure there's two niggers and a chink."

"There was a pretty girl too," Greg said. "I'd cut off a piece of that."

"You leave them be," Daryl snarled.

Cassy sat down next to Daryl. She placed her blade against his cheek and Daryl became completely still. He knew she wouldn't hesitate. Cassy began to brush the blade against his skin while she hummed. "I could cut you open. Would you like that? Huh mutt, would you?"

"Leave him alone," Rick said.

Cassy smiled at Rick as she continued to brush the knife against Daryl's skin. "Does he know about you half-breed? Does he know your secret? I bet he doesn't," she said.

"You don't have to do this," Rick said. "We can all walk away from this."

Without warning Cassy pressed down on her blade, splitting Daryl's skin under the metal and causing his blood to leak out. Daryl hissed as he bled. "There it is," Cassy whispered.

"Stop!" Rick's demand was ignored. "Stop this!"

Cassy pressed harder. Daryl could feel the sharp pain, but he was practiced at finding ways around pain. His childhood had taught him that. He knew that when it got bad and there was no way out you just had to go somewhere else. Unfortunately all of the places in Daryl's head right now were miserable places. He thought about the flowers, but their white petals broke apart and leaked red blood. He thought about the forest, but the sky turned white, and all of the trees turned to ash. He thought about the prison, but he saw Hershel weeping for his dead daughter and the walls crumbled to dust. A baby was crying, but she was silenced by the snarls of walkers that descended upon her. Her father wasn't there to protect her because he had died on this rescue mission. He had died because of Daryl. Every place Daryl tried to go was more painful than reality. So he just returned to reality. Cassy pulled her knife out of Daryl's face and then punched him. Her fist collided with his open wound and he grunted in pain. "Jesus,"

"Jesus ain't got time for the likes of you," Cassy said. "He defends the righteous."

"Screw you," Daryl said. "Screw you and the horse you rode in on you Goddamn cunt."

Cassy laughed. "There it is! There's that Dixon spirit!"

"You gonna let him talk to you like that Cassy," Greg asked.

"Nah," Cassy said. Cassy looked at easy smile. "Do you remember what we did to Dixon, Johnny? Do you remember when we taught him his lesson at school," she asked.

Johnny's easy smile grew. "I sure do."

Cassy grabbed the chain of Daryl's handcuffs and yanked him to his feet before kicking the back of his knees, causing him to lose his balance and fall forward. "Let's teach im again."

Daryl felt it before he saw anything. The foot connected with his ribs, and Daryl couldn't hold back a grunt of pain. He heard Rick saying something in protest, but all Daryl could think about were green eyes and a white sky. _When my grandmother's people were on the trail of tears they lost many children. Sweet little boys and girls like you. The mothers wept for their little ones. The elders, they prayed. They prayed for a sign. They prayed for hope. The next day flowers had bloomed where the mothers' tears had fallen. They were Cherokee roses and they looked just like this. Go ahead, you can pick one. There are so many. We'll press it in a book and you can keep it forever. Would you like that Daryl? Go ahead, it's all right._

…

Daryl woke up feeling confused. He was in a lot of pain. His face burned. His whole body ached. His wrists were on fire. Daryl looked down at his hands and saw that he had been cuffed, and that the metal bracelets were biting into his flesh. Daryl moaned. He felt a hand on his forehead and jerked away. "Daryl, it's me. Are you all right? Hey, it's Rick. Say something."

"Hell do you want me to say," Daryl groused as he tried to sit up.

Rick helped Daryl get into sitting position. Daryl wanted to tell Rick off, but he actually needed the man's help, so he held his tongue. "They really did a number on you. All five of those guys, they kicked the crap out of you. For a minute there I thought… I thought you were dead."

Daryl shivered. He looked around at their dim surroundings. "Where are we?"

"Well, we're in the cellar. So that part of the plan worked."

Daryl groaned again, in equal parts exasperation and pain. "Screw you man."

"Daryl, we have to get out of here," Rick's voice was so somber it chilled the bones.

"You don't think I know that?"

"These people are crazy."

"I know that too. Believe me I know." Daryl thought about the shiny green eyes. "I grew up with these people. Cassy was Merle's on and off girlfriend. Hell Cassy was any asshole's on and off girlfriend that could hold his own in a fight and hold his liquor as well as she could."

"Sounds like a nice girl," Rick said caustically.

"She liked to be in charge of things. Never seemed to care about much else. When she wanted something she would screw, weasel or bribe until she got it. It didn't even matter what it was, just that she got it. The only thing she likes more than power is pain. She loves that shit."

"Sounds like the kind of girl your brother would be all over."

Daryl remembered a bruise on Cassy's face, the big purple egg. "Yeah,"

"What else do we know about her, anything useful?"

"She ain't gonna let up. She'll kill Glenn, Michonne and Sasha. Probably nab Maggie and give her to those guys. They're real mean pieces of work. There ain't much they won't do."

"I see now why you left this place," Rick said.

"You don't see shit," Daryl snapped. He knew Rick didn't know. He knew Rick didn't mean any harm. He couldn't care though. His head was spinning. Daryl felt queasy and he knew he probably had a concussion. "I saw these people do an awful lot of shit. I was seventeen when I left this joint. All the shit I saw them do, they was kids when they did it. I don't think the years have made them a better sort of people. When I was running around with Merle we got into a lot of trouble, but we were on the straight and narrow compared to what went on here," Daryl said.

Daryl couldn't see Rick's face, but he could feel the heavy silence. "What did they do?"

There was a whispered quality to Rick's voice that was somewhat alarming. "You don't really want to know," Daryl replied. "We just gotta get the hell out of here. We gotta get our people the hell outta here. Hopefully that involves taking these pricks out in the process."

"Did they do something to you?"

"Did you hear what I just said," Daryl growled.

"I just want to know what we're dealing with."

Daryl let out a barking laugh. "When I was fifteen Cassy was eighteen. She and all of the guys upstairs, along with several other upstanding members of our little community took part in a lynching. I was there, in the back of the crowd. I saw it all. My brother dragged my ass out of bed and told me to get in the truck. He was gonna show me something. He took me to where they all were, gathered around that tree. His name was Stevie. I didn't know him. Bodies raise a lot of questions, but they knew if they left him alive he wouldn't say shit. So they didn't kill him, but they came real close. They strung him up and then cut him down so many damn times I was sure he couldn't survive. The man turned damn blue. When they got bored with choking him they…"

Daryl couldn't look at Rick. He still remembered that night. It was imprinted vividly into his mind. He couldn't bear to look at Rick and see the horror and disgust on his face. Daryl gave the chain between his wrists a futile yank. The chain held strong, but the metal dug deeper into his flesh. "Stop that," Rick said. "You'll only hurt yourself. If these people get ahold of Glenn, Michonne and Sasha, what will they do?" That was a good question. There was no more law, no more society. Cassy and her men could do whatever they wanted. There had always been a line, an invisible line. Now that line was gone, along with what little protection it afforded. "Daryl?"

"They'll kill them… eventually."

Daryl felt the heavy silence fall on them. Before their conversation could continue the two men heard a door open. Cassy, Greg and Johnny came down the stairs. Cassy gestured to Rick and Daryl. Her men hauled the two of them to their feet and escorted them back up to the main room of the church. Daryl and Rick were positioned next to the main entrance. Cassy took a look through a window. "Do it," she said. Greg grabbed Rick and threw the door open.

"What are you doing," Daryl demanded.

"Hush mutt," Cassy said offhandedly.

Greg shoved Rick out the door, using him as a human shield. Daryl felt his heart rate increase as he watched his friend be forced to his knees in the middle of the road with a gun placed to his head. "All right assholes! You have fifteen seconds to haul ass out here before I put a bullet in your man's brain! One! Two! Three!" Daryl's mouth went dry. There was no way this could end well. Either his friends came out and they died, or they didn't come out and Rick died.

"Are you scared mutt," Cassy teased in a breathy voice.

"Six! Seven! Eight!"

"Kill me Cassy," Daryl pleaded. "Kill me and let them go."

"Twelve!"

The door to the front of the store opened. Glenn came out with his hands up and no weapons visible on his person. Michonne followed in a similar position with her katana slung over her back, but no other weapons on her. "We surrender!" Glenn stopped a few metres from the store. Michonne stood next to him. "Where's Daryl," Glenn asked. "Is he alive?"

Greg chuckled. "Oh yeah, Dixon's alive. It was a damn surprise to us."

Glenn and Michonne shared a look. "You know him," Michonne asked.

"Sure we do. Baby Dixon grew up here. His brother was always one of us. We would run around raising hell. Those were good days. It's been hard to raise hell lately, what with hell having come to earth. But you two look like you can provide some fun. Where are the others?"

"They're dead," Glenn said immediately. "They bled out and we had to put them down."

"Ain't that just too bad," Greg said. "I only caught a glance at the white chick, but she looked like she could be a good ride. I ain't one much for the Ethiopian bitches."

Both Michonne and Glenn stiffened in fury. "Maggie was my wife," Glenn hissed.

Greg laughed. "I don't believe a word of that. To tell you the truth I don't believe that your people are dead either. We're going to go in and check, and if we find those two bitches in there we're going to rip them apart, starting with their insides and working our way out."

Michonne glared at the man. "Just so you know, I'm going to kill you."

"Duly noted," Greg said. "Now put the sword down and march orderly like inside."


	4. Victim

Daryl found himself sitting on the pew again. Rick was on his left and Glenn on his right with Michonne next to Glenn. Both Glenn and Michonne winced when they saw the extensive nature of his injuries. Cassy, Greg and Johnny were guarding them while three other men went to get Maggie and Sasha from the store. Tommy was still on watch. Cassy was eating a bag of trail mix. Johnny was exploring Michonne with his eyes. "Why are you doing this," Glenn asked.

Cassy shrugged. "We're bored."

"Facing hordes of undead isn't exciting enough for you," Glenn asked incredulously.

Cassy tipped the bag of trail mix so that the rest of the food spilled into her open and waiting mouth. "They're already dead," Cassy said through a mouth full of food.

"Not much accomplishment in killing a dead thing," Johnny agreed.

"Whereas tormenting people who are tied up and can't fight back is an accomplishment you can be proud of," Michonne said in a caustic tone of voice that made Cassy grin.

The blond got down on one knee in front of Michonne. "Do you know this one? Jump in any time if you do." Cassy started to sing softly. "Southern trees bear strange fruits. Blood on the leaves and blood at the root." Daryl saw Michonne stiffen and look at Cassy with loathing.

"Stop," Daryl begged. "Please stop."

Cassy ignored him. "Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze. Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees." Daryl remembered the cooked flesh he'd seen last night when he was roasting that squirrel. He smelt gasoline, even though he knew it was just his imagination.

"Go to hell," Michonne said.

Cassy smirked as she got to her feet. "Maybe I will. Who can say?"

"Nah," Greg said. "We're God's chosen, remember?"

Cassy brought her hands together so that they produced a loud clap. The sound bounced off the walls and made the room unbearably loud for a few moments. "Story time!"

"What," Greg said.

"Didn't you ever go to missus Dixon's Sunday school class? There was always a story."

"Please stop," Daryl whispered.

Cassy ignored Daryl. "Who wants to go first? I think I will."

"What kinda story you gonna tell Cassy," Johnny asked.

"I think I'm gonna tell a story about my family," Cassy said. "You know it Daryl."

Daryl stared at the floor intently, trying to block out what was happening. He could feel the eyes of his friends boring into him. "Is this the one about your grandma," Greg asked.

"You got it." Cassy walked over to Daryl and grabbed his chin, forcing his head up so that he had to look at her. "Pay attention mutt. I'm only going to tell this story once."

"Like you said, I already know it," Daryl muttered.

Daryl glanced at his friends and saw that they were all looking at him. Cassy started her horrid tale. "My granddaddy hated my momma, on account of he didn't think she was really the product of his own seed. He thought she was Forest Dixon's bastard. For a little while that was just a rumor, but the older my momma and Forest's son got the more people saw how the two of them looked alike. Ain't it the truth Daryl, didn't my momma and your daddy look like they could be twins?" Cassy shoved his head to the side, trying to get his attention. "Well?"

Daryl didn't see the point in lying. "Yeah, they did."

Cassy grinned. That was the answer she wanted. "So if my momma was really your daddy's half-sister that means you and I are cousins. A proposition I look at none too fondly."

"But I thought you dated his brother," Rick said.

Cassy's grin widened. "Well you know what they say about us inbred white trash."

"Gross," Glenn said, sounding slightly ill. "You had sex with your own cousin?"

"He wasn't really my cousin. We weren't related by law. Forest Dixon wasn't ever gonna claim my momma as his own. As far as the blood, well I wasn't ever gonna carry his whelp."

Glenn and Michonne looked absolutely disgusted by Cassy's story. Daryl could see that Rick was barely paying attention to her though. He was watching Daryl out of the corner of his eye for some reason. Daryl felt a deep sense of shame. He knew Cassy was only getting warmed up. She had plenty more stories to tell. "Well who the hell would want to carry a red baby anyways," Johnny asked. "Merle turned out all right, but we all saw how the buffalo blood messed up his brother." Johnny smacked Daryl for emphasis. "He's a damn freak."

"Yeah," Greg said. "You wouldn't want one of them in your belly."

"What are you talking about," Glenn asked.

Cassy shook her head. "It's Daryl's turn. He's going to tell a story now."

Daryl closed his eyes. He wondered if Cassy knew how much Daryl had loved his mother's stories and if this twisted perversion of that innocent tradition was designed to ruin those memories for him. That seemed like a stretch even for her. "I don't have anything to say."

There was the click of a gun being cocked. Daryl looked over and saw that Cassy had her gun pointed at Glenn's face. "I'm sure you can think of something if you try real hard."

Daryl swallowed. "What do you want me to say?"

Cassy reached out and brushed a strand of Glenn's hair behind his ear, making the young man shiver. "I want you to tell me one of your mother's stories. Or you could recite one of those pretty poems. Do you remember them? Did she? Did she write them all back down after we stole her book and ripped out all the pages? I remember the look on her face. You were only four years old, so maybe you don't. I had never seen such a sad expression in my entire life."

Daryl was spared having to respond by the sound of gunfire.

…

When Cassy and her two compatriots ran toward the front of the church to see where the sound of gunfire originated from Daryl immediately began pulling at his cuffs again. Glenn took hold of one of his silver bracelets and tried to pull it off his hand. He only succeeded in cutting his wrist. Daryl thought about his brother. Had this been how he felt before he chopped off his own hand? Daryl shivered. He looked over his shoulder at their preoccupied captors. Rick subtly nudged Daryl. Daryl turned to look at him and Rick whispered something in his ear. Daryl gave Rick a nod so slight it was almost imperceptible before whispering to the frantic Glenn.

The front door of the church slammed open and one of Cassy's men came running into the sanctuary. "Those bitches ambushed us!" The man slammed the doors shut, panting heavily.

Cassy slapped the man hard enough to make him stumble. "How the hell did they ambush you when you knew they were in there you stupid incompetent shithead?!"

Johnny and Greg shook their heads. Daryl knew these people; they were always eager to find a scapegoat or an outcast. You could be in one day and out the next. It all depended on which way the wind was blowing. "They were hiding! They started shooting at us the moment we went inside! I barely got out! They killed the rest of us!" Daryl saw the man catch sight of the prisoners and Daryl anticipated the idea he would have. Daryl was correct. He saw the light go off in the man's eyes. The man stormed over to them. "These assholes were part of it!"

"No shit," Greg said sarcastically. "Those were their people that shot at you."

The man slapped Glenn in the face. "I say we kill them right now!"

"Calm down James," Cassy said. "All things in good time."

James scowled at Cassy. "And what are we going to do about those bitches?"

Cassy shrugged. "They aren't going to leave without their people. If they come near here we take them out. If they don't we deal with it later. For now I want to hear the half-breed's story if you don't mind." Cassy walked back up to the pew. "I'm still waiting Daryl."

Daryl looked at James. "I can't believe you let two little girls kick your ass."

"The hell did you say to me?!"

Daryl smirked. "When did you become a little bitch?"

Johnny laughed. "Damn, when a bitch calls you a bitch you know you've been an absolute pussy." Johnny and Greg snickered while James' face turned the color of cherries.

"I ought to cut that tongue right out of your head boy!"

"You don't have the balls," Daryl said.

James got right in Daryl's face to reply to that, but before he could Daryl threw his hands over James' head. He pulled the chain between his wrists taut, choking his captor. "Get off!"

Rick jumped to his feet and barreled into Cassy. She scratched Rick in the face, opening four long bloody rivets in his cheek and neck. Michonne kicked the woman in the ribs while Glenn kicked her gun out of her hand. Johnny and Greg pointed their guns at their prisoners, but Daryl had a human shield and both Rick and Michonne were too close to Cassy to shoot without possibly hitting the blond. Glenn picked up Cassy's gun and aimed it at her coconspirators as he backed up close to James so any shot at Glenn risked hitting him as well.

Johnny sighed. "What the hell do you think you're doing Dixon?"

"Let us out of here and we'll let them live," Daryl said.

Michonne wrestled Cassy's rifle off of her back. She couldn't hold it properly to shoot it with her hands cuffed, but now Cassy couldn't use it either and it made a good club. The blond tried to scramble away from them, but Rick grabbed ahold of her hair and pulled her close.

"You really think you can win this," Johnny asked. "You're only making this worse for yourself boy." Johnny lowered his gun. "If you really want us to let you go then we will. I guess you've earned it. But we'll hunt you. We'll hunt you like my ancestors hunted yours. I'll rip your scalp off. I'll hang the black bitch. I guess we'll bury the chink under a pile of rocks. I'm not sure what we'll do with your white friend, but we'll figure something out. We'll slaughter you."

"It would be better just to stay," Cassy said.

Rick tightened his grip on her blond hair. "Shut up."

Johnny looked at Greg. "Open the door."

"We're really gonna let them go?"

Johnny sighed. "Did you not hear what I just said?"

Greg gave Johnny a confused look. "Alright," he said.

"Uncuff us," Glenn ordered.

Cassy reached into her pocket. Rick watched her closely to make sure she didn't have a weapon, but what she pulled out was the handcuff key. Michonne snatched the key, releasing first herself and then Glenn. Glenn took the cuffs off of Rick while Michonne leveled the rifle at Greg and Johnny. When Rick was free he forced Cassy to her feet and Glenn put the gun to her head to keep her still. Rick carefully took the cuffs off Daryl. They didn't want James to use the opportunity to escape. He seemed too nervous to try. Daryl put his cuffs on James and forced him to sit on the pew. Rick put a pair of cuffs on Cassy. "You're coming with us. We'll let you go when we're out of sight of the church," Rick told Cassy. "If you know what's good for you then you and your people will let well enough alone once we're gone. Do you understand?"

Cassy didn't even look at Rick. She stared at Daryl. "Do your people know about all the things you did? Do they know how hard you tried to be one of us? I bet they don't."

"Shut up," Glenn said. "It's your turn to be the hostage, and you get to be quiet."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Rick yanked Cassy forward by her shoulder. "Move," he said.

The two groups kept their weapons trained on each other as Daryl, Rick, Michonne and Glenn left the church with their hostage in tow. "I'll check the store," Glenn said.

The other three members of the group headed toward the vehicles Daryl and Rick had driven in. "They took our car," Michonne said. "We'll all fit in this one though."

"We're not taking her." Daryl pointed at Cassy.

"No," Rick agreed. "We'll leave her here."

"Are you at least going to leave me a knife so I can get free when you're gone?"

Rick shook his head. "Your people will come for you."

"What if a walker gets here first?"

"Then that would be unfortunate for you," Daryl said.

Cassy snorted. "Oh Dixon, I'm going to pull your guts out through your throat."

"Hey," Michonne said. "Play nice, or we'll break something before we leave you here."

Glenn came running over. "They're not in the store."

Rick swore. "Where could they have gone?"

"They must have run towards the woods," Daryl said. "They had no way of knowing we were going to get free. They probably figured someone would come after them to pay them back for the guys they took out. Maggie won't get far on that leg. We can catch up to them quick."

"Okay," Rick said. "We bring the hostage with us in case her people get it into their heads to follow us." Rick forced Cassy to walk in front of him as he started towards the forest that had started to violate its boundary with the community. Daryl had a sick feeling as he followed his friends into the shade of the trees. His dark feeling was proven apt when they had gone a little ways into the forest and caught sight of one of the most gruesome things Daryl had ever seen. Glenn actually had to grab a tree to steady himself. The young man almost vomited.

Daryl looked at the bodies. There were at least a dozen in this spot alone. Daryl had a sneaking suspicion this wasn't the only section of the forest with bodies like this. They were all strung up in the trees. It was impossible to determine the gender or appearance these people had possessed as they were all burnt to a crisp. The fact that the charcoal-colored bodies were gnashing their teeth and reaching out for them made Daryl suspect that these people had been alive when they were strung up and set on fire. "Did you do all this," Daryl asked in a whisper.

Cassy responded by starting her song again. "Southern trees bear strange-"

Michonne tore Cassy out of Rick's grip and threw the woman up against a tree, her head smacking the bark with a loud thump. "Shut up!" Michonne raised a fist to punch the blond.

Cassy didn't flinch. "Go ahead. Violence is the nature of your people."

Glenn gaped at the woman. "How could you do something like this?"

Cassy chuckled. "If you let animals run wild they tear up your crops, attack your children and lay waste to your home. There is only one way to rid yourself of an infection."

Daryl closed his eyes. The smell of burnt flesh only grew stronger when he did so and he ended up doing what Glenn had managed to stop himself from doing. Daryl threw up onto the forest floor. The smell of his own vomit only increased his nausea, and his concussion certainly wasn't helping the situation. Daryl wobbled a little and probably would have lost his balance if Rick hadn't caught his arm. _You was stupid baby brother. You shouldn't have done what you did._

"Daryl?"

At the sound of Rick's voice Daryl yanked his arm from the man's grip. Daryl stumbled, but he managed to keep himself from falling. "Don't touch me." Daryl stared at the charred reaching corpses. Daryl wondered if she had looked like that when the fires were working on her.

"Gruesome, isn't it," Cassy whispered.

Daryl spun around and stormed over to where Michonne still had the woman pinned to a tree with her hair splayed against the bark like a halo. "What kind of sickness is in your head?!"

Cassy responded with barking shrill laughter. "This doesn't break the rules. It's us vs. them, and we didn't attack anybody we didn't have the right to. We didn't attack you until you broke the rules." Cassy locked eyes with Daryl. "You wanted to be one of us, and we would have accepted you just like we did your brother if you hadn't done what you did. You were a pathetic little brat, but we were willing to let you in anyway. We weren't going to let a disgusting degenerate roam our community thinking he could do whatever he liked! You don't get to play the victim! You should have known better than anybody that actions have consequences."

Daryl pulled out his hunting knife. "Move," he instructed Michonne in a chilled voice.

Glenn ran over. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, we need her. If we run into those people again, or if they found Maggie and Sasha, we'll need her as a hostage." Glenn reached for the hand Daryl was using to grip his knife. Daryl backed away out of Glenn's reach. "Daryl think about this!"

"Yeah Daryl," Cassy teased. "Listen to Mr. Sulu."

Michonne shoved Cassy to the ground. "Shut up."

Rick walked up to Daryl. "Hand me the knife," Rick whispered.

"Screw you Grimes! You ain't the boss of me!"

"You're not thinking straight." Rick lowered his voice even more, so that Daryl could barely hear him. "We need her. When this is over we can kill her, but not right now."

Daryl's grip tightened on the knife. He looked up. The sky was white. Daryl rubbed his eyes with his free hand, but it didn't change anything. Daryl looked back down and saw that Rick was looking at him with deep concern in his eyes. Rick glanced up toward where Daryl had been looking, but Daryl knew there was nothing there to see. "These people…" Daryl couldn't adequately finish the statement. "They have to die. They…" Daryl took in a shaky breath.

"I know, but not right now," Rick said. "Trust me."

Daryl sheathed his knife. "Yeah,"

Cassy snickered. "But should you trust the mutt? Now that's the question."

Michonne kicked Cassy in the ribs. Cassy grunted in pain, but the attack did not discourage her in the slightest. She grinned at Michonne. "Keep your mouth shut," Michonne enunciated to the woman. "We might not be about to kill you, but we'll gag you."

"Ooh, kinky. Is that the kind of thing you're into Dixon? Do you let Mr. Grimes over there chain you up before he bends you over the table and-" Michonne yanked Cassy to her feet by her hair and then shoved her to the ground again. Cassy snickered. "Testy, testy,"

Glenn spoke in a tone saturated in frustration. "We don't have time for this. We have to find Maggie and Sasha before those assholes do." There was a tinge of desperation in Glenn's expression when he spoke. Daryl knew that losing Maggie would kill him if it happened.

Daryl looked around. "We should take them out. We can't leave them like this."

Daryl watched his friends scrutinize the corpses again. A second viewing was no less horrifying and was perhaps even more gruesome than the first. Daryl pulled out his hunting knife again and started toward the closest tree. Rick put a hand on his shoulder. "Later, there isn't enough time right now. But we'll do it later." There was a sincerity in Rick's eyes that made Daryl want to trust Rick even though he knew they might never get the chance to end this.

"Ugh," Cassy said. "You two make me sick."

"What are you talking about," Glenn asked.

"Those two faggots are making me want to lose my lunch."

Rick turned to Cassy and gave her a look of complete confusion. "What are you even talking about?" Rick looked like he was about ready to produce the threatened gag.

"I'm talking about your little lapdog over there. Does he follow you around with that pathetic eager-to-please disposition because you're screwing him or just because he really, really wants you to plow into him?" Cassy snickered again, thoroughly enjoying the expression of complete and utter confusion on Rick's face. Michonne reached her limit and pulled a rag out of her pocket. She forced the fabric into Cassy's mouth and then knotted it at the back of her head.

"Thank God," Glenn said. "Let's go."

Daryl walked behind all of his friends, making sure they couldn't see him. He heard his brother's voice in his ear for the entirety of their trek. Conversations buried in his oldest memories returned to him. Occasionally Rick, Michonne or Glenn would look back at him, but he pretended to have spotted something in the trees and avoided their gazes at all costs.


	5. Child

Daryl stopped and examined something on the ground. He whistled quietly, causing his people to immediately turn around and come back to him. Glenn was taking his turn dragging Cassy along. They took shifts with her. Everyone but Daryl was in the rotation and he had no complaints about that. Daryl pointed to a few drops of blood on the ground. "Probably Maggie's leg that caused this." Daryl squinted at the ground. "I think I see the trail. The ground's too hard for prints, but the way she's dragging her leg along is messing with the grass."

Daryl saw that the others were examining the ground as well. They saw the blood, but none of them saw the trail he did. However, they all trusted him. "Lead the way," Rick said.

Daryl nodded and started following the trail. It was a few moments later that he felt the light hand rest on his shoulder. Michonne's softest voice washed over his ear like a gentle stream of water. Everything about Michonne was like water. The way she swung her katana, the way she slid in and out of a room and the way she spoke. She was like a river. "I never apologized."

Daryl glanced at her. "What?"

"I never apologized for what happened a while back."

"I don't know what you're talking about." That was a lie. Daryl knew that Michonne knew he was lying, but he couldn't talk about it. He hoped that she would get the hint.

"I didn't know. I never meant to make you feel-"

"Damn woman can't you hush for a moment," Daryl snapped. "How'm I supposed to follow this damn trail with you buzzing in my ear like some sort of mosquito?"

Michonne sighed. She didn't look angry, just sad. "Okay Daryl." She fell back.

Daryl knew they would find the hunting cabin long before it came into his view because he and Merle had passed it many times on their own hunting trips. Merle had started taking his little brother hunting as soon as Daryl could walk and there was no inch of this woods that he did not know, even if that information was almost twenty years old. Daryl pointed ahead. "There,"

Glenn started running toward the cabin. Rick had Cassy, so it fell to Daryl and Michonne to chase after him and make sure he didn't take any stupid risks. "Maggie," Glenn managed to both whisper and shout his wife's name. The second they heard her respond with his name Glenn was running into the cabin. It was a great relief to Daryl to see Maggie sitting on a blanket leaned against the wall, even if her complexion was far too pale. Sasha looked like she was faring only slightly better. Her bandage had soaked through with blood. Still, she had a smile for them.

"Who's that," Maggie asked.

"This is our hostage," Rick said. Rick shoved Cassy into a corner. "Stay."

Cassy looked rather pitiful with her cuffs and gag, and Daryl couldn't help but feel a bit of satisfaction at her current state. When Glenn knelt down next to Maggie and gently kissed her Daryl noticed the blond rolled her eyes heavily. "How'd you two take those guys out?"

"Those arrogant assholes stepped right into our line of fire," Sasha answered Glenn.

"It was a piece of cake," Maggie agreed.

Glenn pressed his forehead to Maggie's. "I was scared to death something would happen to you, or that something had happened to you." Glenn kissed Maggie again.

Maggie grinned behind Glenn's lips. "How do you think I felt? I was worried the second you stepped outside they would open fire on you two." Maggie put her hand on Glenn's cheek.

"What's next," Sasha asked. "Is there a plan B?"

Rick looked at the prisoner. "Glenn, you got this?"

Glenn nodded.

Rick gestured for Michonne, Daryl and Sasha to follow him outside. Once the four of them were alone with the trees, these thankfully clear of hanging walkers, Rick opened the floor to suggestions. It occurred to Daryl that as hard as Rick had tried to stop being a leader he naturally stepped up to the position now. Daryl and Sasha were both on the council, but it hadn't occurred to Rick to defer to either of them. Daryl was thankful for this. Daryl didn't feel up to making any decisions in his current state of mind. Sasha was talking. She probably had an idea, and knowing her Daryl assumed it was a good one. However, Daryl couldn't hear a word that she was saying. All he could hear were sirens. All he could smell was smoke. All he could see was a sky so white he would swear it was snowing even though it was summer. Except it wasn't summer right now. Was it? Daryl put his hand over his face and tried to calm down.

"Daryl!"

Daryl jumped. He looked up. They were staring at him. He turned red. He wondered how many times they had tried to get his attention before Sasha's shout had broken his reverie. "Hm,"

"Are there any houses near here," Rick asked.

"Oh, yeah there are." _A burnt out shell._

"Do you think we have a chance of finding a running car?"

Daryl nodded absent-mindedly. "Yeah, I can find one."

Rick appraised him for a moment before nodding. "Okay, you and Michonne look for a vehicle and then meet us back here. We shoot the blond and then head back to the church."

Daryl nodded again. "Right,"

Rick held out Cassy's rifle to Daryl. "Here,"

Daryl shook his head. "Nah, I'm good."

"Your bow is still at the church remember?"

He'd forgotten actually. Michonne had picked up her sword from where she had dropped it on the ground outside the church, but Daryl's bow was still in that basement. Daryl took the gun from Rick and then wordlessly started off down the overgrown path from the hunting cabin to the dirt road about a mile away. Michonne followed him. He expected her to insist on talking about what had happened, but he should have known her better. Michonne didn't say a word the entire walk toward the nearest houses. Daryl was incredibly grateful for that. They were almost to the first house when he saw it. As though he were hypnotized Daryl made his way toward the vacant lot where someone had bulldozed over the blackened skeleton of the house where Daryl had been born. The lot looked the same as it had the day Daryl left town. No one had ever bothered to rebuild. Daryl stood in front of the lot. Michonne stood silently next to him.

"The day it burnt down…" Daryl didn't know why he was talking. He couldn't seem to stop himself. "The steam from the water hitting the flames turned the sky white. I thought it was going to snow. I thought it was going to snow in Georgia in the middle of summer. The whole house burnt down. There was nothing left to fix. The county had the remains taken down so no dumbass kids could hurt themselves playing around in them. My dad and I moved into a trailer next to his still. He… He was always a big drinker. After she died, I never saw him sober."

Daryl knew his disconnected story must make very little sense to Michonne, but she must have filled in the missing pieces for herself, because she didn't look confused at all. She waited until she was sure he was done talking. "You were all alone." She sounded like she understood.

Daryl looked at her. "Yeah, I was."

"There was nobody to protect you." None of these statements were questions.

"Merle… when he was around. When he wasn't drunk or high or trying to get into some girl's pants. When he wasn't beating the crap out of me. When he…" Daryl chuckled. It was so stupid in a lot of ways. Merle's idea of looking out for Daryl was to toughen him up, and he figured the best way to do that was to beat the snot out of his little brother. "He loved me."

"Merle wasn't a good person, or a good brother," Michonne said. "But he did love you."

"He died because of me," Daryl said. "The only person who ever…"

Michonne put her hand on Daryl's shoulder. "He's not the only one. We love you too."

Daryl flinched away from her words. "You don't know me."

"I know you better than you think."

Daryl's head snapped up. He glared at her, a sudden rage filling him. The rage melted away the second he looked into her warm brown eyes. "How did you know?" Daryl thought back to that night, many weeks ago. It was before Daryl had stopped looking for the Governor, and the two of them had been trapped in a barn waiting out a thunderstorm. There had been nothing to do but breathe in the scent of moldy hay and stare at the shadows on the wall. Michonne had been sitting next to him and both of them had been breathing heavily from the mad dash to get into the barn and out of the frigid rain. That was when she had done it. She had moved fast like she always did, washing over him like the water she was. Her skin was wet and it slid against his with a weird uncomfortable friction. Her lips were on his, full and juicy, hot and leaking something that must have been saliva. He had immediately, instinctually moved his face away from hers. She didn't catch on at first. She kissed his neck. She began to fiddle with the buckle of his belt. He put his hands over hers, gently grasping them. He lifted her hands off of him, and that was when she got it. She moved back, but was still straddling him. He had only glanced at her for a moment before shame overcame him and he had to avert his eyes again. She was off of him in a second, dismissing the awkward apology that came from his lips. She tried to explain that she was in the wrong and shouldn't have assumed, but Daryl had escaped into the hayloft to 'keep watch' and she had possessed the good sense to leave him alone. "Was I that obvious?"

Michonne shook her head. "I'm your friend. I can read you like a book."

"Huh," Daryl kicked up some dirt. "Do you think anyone else…"

"Carol might. I wouldn't know. I can't imagine anyone else knows."

"You don't know either," Daryl said. "You're just assuming."

Michonne nodded. "Have you ever told anybody?"

Daryl shook his head, giving her an answer he knew she knew.

"You can tell me."

Daryl pointed down the street. "That truck ought to work."

"Daryl-"

"Come on." Daryl started toward the truck.

Michonne stayed where she was. "Daryl."

Daryl looked at her. It was hard, but he did it. "I will. Later."

Michonne accepted this and followed him. Daryl hotwired the truck and the two of them began the short drive back to the hunting cabin. At the turn-off onto the path that would take them back to their friends Daryl slowed and stopped. He rested his head on the wheel. "I did things here. She wasn't lying. I did want to be one of them. I did things even after. When I was with my brother I always followed his lead. I said things to people. I said a bunch of racist shit to people that had never done me any harm. I said crass things to girls who weren't bothering me at all. I'm not the good guy you think I am. I'm not… I'm not one of the victims in all of this."

Michonne placed her hand on his back. "I don't know who you were. I can never know that because I wasn't there. But I know who you _are_. You are the good guy I think you are."

Daryl sat back up. He looked at her. "What if I had never left? What if they never turned on me and I stayed here? I could have been one of the guys that strung those people up and set them on fire. I could have been one of the sick bastards that hunted them down and then…"

Michonne took his face in both of her hands. "No,"

"You can't know for sure. You-"

Michonne rested her forehead against his. She shook her head. He felt their skin rubbing together as she did. It wasn't bad this time, when there was no sexual element. It was nice when it was just this friendly thing. "I know you. I know who you are. I know what you would do for the people you love. That's enough. That's all I need to know. That is who you are."

Daryl took a moment. He nodded. When he pulled away from her she immediately released him. They drove the rest of the way in silence. As they pulled up to the hunting cabin Daryl experienced a moment of fear. What if the men from the church had followed them and ambushed Rick, Glenn, Maggie and Sasha after he and Michonne left? Daryl needn't have worried though, because as soon as he pulled up Rick was outside waving them into the cabin.

Daryl started to get out of the truck, but a hand on his arm stopped him. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, now or later. You should tell somebody though. You can tell him." Daryl looked at Michonne like she had just suggested he try to French kiss a walker.

"Everything alright?" Rick called out to them.

"I'm serious," Michonne insisted.

"I'm seriously questioning your sanity," Daryl said. "Let's go."

Daryl walked past Rick without looking at him and went over to Glenn and Maggie to help Glenn get his wife to the truck. Maggie gave Daryl a grateful look when he gently gripped her arm and waist and lifted along with Glenn. Sasha watched them before turning her gaze to the bound and gagged captive in the corner. "What are we going to do with her," Sasha asked.

Rick held the door open for Daryl, Maggie and Glenn. He looked from Sasha to their prisoner and then toward Daryl. "A bullet in the head seems like the most merciful solution."

"We could just leave her here," Sasha said. "We could take the cuffs off and tie her with rope, then leave her a knife so she can get free once we're gone and defend herself on the way back to her people. We don't need to kill her." Sasha looked uncertain, like she was advocating for this choice based on principle and didn't actually like the option at all. Daryl focused on helping Maggie into the truck. He wanted Cassy dead, but killing a human being in cold blood that was no longer a threat was a serious undertaking. If the group decided not to he would just have to accept that. Daryl gestured for Glenn to get in the truck and Glenn pulled Maggie's shoulders while Daryl lifted her by the waist. Eventually they got her situated as comfortably as they could. She leaned back against her husband while her leg was stretched out on the seat.

"Daryl,"

Daryl turned around. Michonne and Sasha were looking at him. Rick was inside, either guarding Cassy or making sure she would never need to be guarded again. "What is it?"

"You knew her," Sasha said. "Are you okay with us killing her?"

"More than okay," Daryl assured the two women.

"You don't have to be," Michonne said.

Daryl thought about those shiny green eyes. "I'll do it myself," he said.

"You definitely don't have to do that," Sasha said. "We can-"

"I want to," Daryl said. He pulled the stolen rifle off of his back and walked into the cabin with Michonne and Sasha at his heels. Rick gave Daryl an inquisitive look when Daryl stepped in front of the bound and gagged woman. Cassy's eyes widened and she began to shake her head and try to speak through her gag. Daryl knew that nothing good could come out of her mouth, but despite himself he pulled the gag off of her. "Well," he demanded.

"Don't I get any last words," Cassy asked.

"Only if you talk fast," Daryl said.

"You're such a hypocrite," Cassy said. "I played my role to perfection, and my lot in life was a lot harder than the one you were handed out. Boy after boy and man after man, they all came and fucked me. Your brother was five years older than me and none to skilled for all of that, but I fucked him anyway. He was a man and I was a woman, or a girl if you want to get into the semantics of it. Oh, that means-" Daryl knew she was trying to bait him, but he cut her off.

"I know what semantics means Cassy."

"I was a thing in our world. You were to be hated and despised, but I was to be used, over and over again by anyone who was worthy. I was breeding stock. You, you were dangerous. I am not the monster. It always comes down to the children. That is how it has always been. We all just want to pass on our genes and our names. But you, you were a degenerate that could not fit into that system. We all knew the danger of people like you. Men who stalk the school yards and entice little boys. They damage our futures. How can someone become a man who has been used like a girl? People like you are a threat to our future. So we sent you away. It's not on me what happened to you. You should have known better. You should have followed the rules."

Daryl felt sick. He felt furious. "I was fourteen years old! I was a kid and you and your buddies beat the shit out of me! When my dad found out what that fight was about he tried to murder me! I had to hide out in the woods for two weeks all beat to hell because of you!"

Daryl hadn't meant to reply. He hadn't meant to let Cassy keep talking for as long as she had been. He had meant to shoot her. But for some reason he couldn't. Her forthright explanation of her reasoning for treating him so terribly all those years ago was mesmerizing. "No, it was because of you! We all get hit when we act out! Your brother beat me up all the time!"

"Then why did you stay?"

Cassy laughed again. There was no more mirth left in it. "You still don't get it. You can't survive without a group. The group keeps you safe. Society keeps you safe. You saw what we did to outsiders, what we do to outsiders. Leaving is not an option. Your dad should have killed you for what you did, but I bet he let you live because he knew how terrible your life would be."

Daryl looked at the ground. He closed his eyes. It was stupid. It had been such a stupid thing to do. He was a hormonal fourteen-year-old captivated by a pair of pretty green eyes and the fact that somebody wanted to kiss him. He must have known the consequences somewhere in the back of his mind, but he hadn't been thinking about them. All he could think about was Mike's green eyes. Mike hadn't been from his neighborhood. He was from the town where the high school, the one he and his neighbors got bussed to because they didn't have one, was.


	6. Coward

"You aren't going to shoot me." Some of Cassy's confidence had leaked back into her voice during their conversation. "You don't have the balls. You're just going to leave me here."

"Why did you kill those people Cassy," Daryl whispered.

"Because I could," she said. "Because I know." Daryl looked up and his blue eyes locked with her own. He saw that she did know. "I know the truth. It was always my dirty little secret that no one could know. I know what we are. The Sanskrit word that Aryan comes from, do you know what it means? It is a higher class of people, but not an ethnic one. It means the children who were wanted, intentional. For what good could a bastard ever be? We are not Aryans, and we are not their children either. We are the bastards and whelps of trash. That is all we were ever meant to be. That is the highest we could aspire towards. But you were rejected even by that lowly class. How does that feel Daryl Dixon? How does it feel to be so thoroughly worthless?"

Daryl forced himself to once again meet Cassy's hate-filled cold icy eyes. "I am going to kill you Cassidy. You're dangerous. You killed those people, and you have to die."

"They aren't people! You aren't a person! Even animals like your buddies here create more of themselves. You're the end of the line. You're a freak, an anomaly. You are a contradiction of every law of nature. You should have been suffocated at birth."

Daryl was stunned when the loud crack of a gunshot sounded. Cassy's face was caved in on the right side, a pulpy collection of gore. Sasha was lowering her rifle. Sasha pointedly avoided looking at Daryl as she spoke to him. "You were right. We can't in good conscience let her live. We also don't have to listen to her run her damn mouth. Let's get the hell out of here."

Daryl shouldered his stolen rifle. "Sure, yeah. Let's do that." Daryl headed for the exit as fast as possible so Rick and Michonne couldn't stop him. He didn't want to talk about what Cassy had said. It still didn't feel real. Even as her corpse dripped blood, brain and bits of bone onto the floor it still didn't seem like she was a real person. She was just a ghost that haunted this place from his past. She existed only to remind him of what was. Daryl climbed into the truck bed and sat down, leaning against the cab. He rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the dirty metal beneath him. He expected either Rick or Michonne to climb in the back with him and force him to talk, but they didn't. They knew he wanted to be left alone so they respected that and got into the front. However with Maggie's leg taking up all the extra room in the backseat someone had to ride in the back with Daryl. Sasha got into the truck bed, but she didn't initiate conversation with him. Daryl appreciated that. Still, after a while the silence became an oppressive weight. Daryl couldn't breathe around it. "Thank you," he whispered so quietly he didn't know for sure that she had heard him until she voiced her reply almost a minute later.

"When Rick kicked us out of the prison that first time, you weren't there. When he showed up at Woodbury with you and Michonne I wondered who you were. A couple of days after Rick let us all into the prison I asked Beth who you were. I knew your name, but I wondered about you, about what your story was. Beth said you were Rick's right hand man, so I figured you were the soldier type. You were what Martinez was to the Governor. But I was completely wrong. You can carry out orders when they need to be done, that part's accurate enough, sure. But you can give them too. You do what needs to be done. You're never selfish about it. You don't use people for your own benefit. The only person you ever allow to get the short end of the stick is yourself." Daryl hadn't looked at her this entire time, but now he forced himself to meet her eyes. "You're a leader, and you're a good one. Of all the people on the council you're the one that I trust the most to keep it together when the shit hits the fan."

"I didn't though," Daryl said. "She got to me. She got under my skin."

Sasha shook her head. "She got under all our skins. I shot her for me as much as you."

Daryl shook his head, not quite believing that. "I still don't get it."

"Get what?"

"Why you don't hate me," Daryl said.

Sasha sighed. "You're not one of them."

"I was. If they hadn't kicked me out I still would be."

Sasha opened her mouth to say something and then stopped. She looked at Daryl, really looked at him. He watched her eyes and saw her give in. She could repeat herself a million times, but it wouldn't take away Daryl's guilt. "Hey, look at me." Daryl was already looking at her, so he didn't quite understand the request. He frowned at her. "What do you see," she asked.

"I don't get it."

"When you look at me, what do you see?"

Daryl sighed. He thought he knew what point she was trying to prove now. "I see you."

"Okay, but what does that mean?"

"I see you, Sasha Williams. You're a leader and a sister and a friend…"

"What else?"

Daryl shifted position, in obvious discomfort. He wished he had never started this conversation, even though he had really wanted to thank her. "You're a black woman. I see that too, okay? I'm not color blind. I see things like that still. But they don't… It doesn't…"

"Mean anything?"

Daryl sighed. He rubbed his temples with his fingers. His head was pounding both from his concussion and conflicting emotions. "Until I was a part of this group I was always under somebody's thumb. First it was my dad, then it was my brother. I always did what they told me to do, and that's on me. That's my fault. But when they were gone, and I had to decide for myself who I wanted to be… I just don't want to be alone. I don't want to die alone on some road somewhere and come back as one of those things with no one ever even knowing that anything was different. I'm not good or tolerant or whatever. I'm just selfish, and scared."

Sasha chuckled. Daryl gave her a confused look. "Daryl, that's everybody."

"What do you mean?"

"We all feel that way. Relationships aren't about altruism. It is selfishness that makes us want to connect with others. Nobody wants to be alone, not completely. But there are a lot of ways you could have gone about not being alone. There are a lot of things you did that you never had to, because once you had those people you wanted to protect them. That's pretty selfless."

"I-"

Sasha decided she wasn't done. "You could have left us out here."

Daryl shook his head. "It was my fault y'all are out here."

"According to the people back at the prison or according to yourself?"

Daryl sighed again. Despite himself he could feel Sasha's words starting to have an effect on him. He gave Sasha a weak smile. At this point he simply didn't have the energy to keep fighting with her anymore. For once maybe that was a good thing. "No matter why you did it, thank you for getting rid of her, for stopping her. I… I don't think I could have," Daryl said.

Sasha looked like she wanted to ask why, but then she thought better of it and just returned Daryl's smile. "You're welcome. That's what friends are for."

"For killing the psychotic white supremacists from each other's pasts?"

"Among other things. I'm pretty sure there's a list somewhere."

Daryl smirked despite himself. Once they killed the remaining people at the church this would all be over. Daryl had to admit that was appealing. He wanted to go home and sleep in his own bed. He wanted to see Carol, Carl and little asskicker. He wanted to say hi to Hershel, Tyreese and even that kid who always acted so oddly around him, Patrick. He wanted to be with his people in his home. Daryl leaned his head back against the cab and closed his eyes, picturing himself behind the gates of the prison. "This place was never my home," Daryl said.

"Yeah." Sasha seemed to understand that he just needed to say that, make it official.

"Even when my mom was alive, it was never good here. It was never safe. I loved going to church every Sunday because it was two uninterrupted hours where my dad could absolutely not hit me. But it would end, and we would go home. My mom would read to me from the bible, and she would tell me about how God loves us and would take care of us. I kept waiting for God to _do_ something. Never happened." Daryl opened his eyes. "You have to save yourself I guess."

"You do," Sasha agreed. "In the end you have to."

Daryl nodded. "We used to go on walks in the forest. There was this field of Cherokee roses and we would look at them. That's it, that's all. We would just look at flowers. But those are the happiest memories I have of my childhood. I tried to tell my brother about those flowers one time, and he said that's why I was such a pussy, because I spent too much time looking at flowers like a damned girl. I guess that's why she never showed him. She knew him."

"Your mom sounds nice," Sasha said.

Daryl laughed bitterly. "She was an alcoholic that let her husband beat the shit out of her kids because it isn't a woman's place to defy her husband. She didn't stand up for us. She didn't even stand up for herself. But I loved her. I cried so much when she died my dad broke my nose for making too much noise. But I didn't care about that. I just wanted her to be alive."

Sasha opened her mouth to reply, but Daryl never got to find out what her reaction to that little anecdote was going to be. Her eyes widened, and the truck stopped. Daryl turned around to see what had caught her attention and stilled the truck. A herd was right in front of them. At least one hundred walkers were baring down on them. They were all burnt black. Daryl realized the men from the church must have cut their victims down from the trees and herded them toward their prey. Daryl would have appreciated the cleverness of the scheme if he wasn't so worried about his impending doom. Rick put the truck in reverse and started to drive backwards. Daryl and Sasha lifted their rifles and started to pick off walkers at the front of the herd.

Daryl looked over his shoulder and remembered with a sinking heart that this trail ended at the cabin where they had taken shelter. Once there they would have to get out of the truck and make a run for it. Maggie was in no condition to run anywhere. Daryl internally cursed their rotten luck and recalled what he had just told Sasha. You had to save yourself, and that was something Daryl believed, but he thought saving the people you love also fell under that umbrella, because they were a part of you. Daryl jumped over the side of the truck. He landed a little unsteadily, but he didn't fall. "Daryl! What the hell are you doing?! Get back in the truck!"

Daryl ignored Sasha. He ran toward the herd at an angle, shooting as he did to ensure they noticed him. He heard shouts, but he forced himself to ignore them. A large group broke off from the herd and headed for Daryl, but it wasn't enough. It was the best he could do. Daryl ran into the woods as fast as he could. His injuries screamed at him with the color red. Daryl swore when his rifle ran out of bullets. Daryl tripped and landed on his hands and knees. When Daryl stood a walker was right in front of him. He used the butt of his rifle to bash in the burnt corpse's skull, but by the time he had done so more were there. Daryl took a step back, but he fell to the ground once more, this time on his back. Daryl tried to use the gun to force back the walker that was coming for him. The walker collapsed, a knife embedded in its skull. Glenn stood where the walker had been and was reaching down to offer Daryl a hand. "Come on idiot, let's go."

As Glenn pulled Daryl up they saw Michonne decapitating walkers right and left in order to give them time to get away. With Michonne right on their heels the two men ran deeper and deeper into the forest. "You should have stayed," Daryl said through his ragged breaths when they had the chance to slow down for a minute. "You should have stayed and cleared a path for the truck to get through." Daryl grabbed a tree trunk and leaned against it. "Maggie needs you."

Michonne rolled her eyes. "You needed us more. It was a good plan. We had to lead the walkers away. But you couldn't do it on your own. Rick and Sasha can handle getting the truck through the crowd. Even more walkers came this way once we followed you," Michonne said.

Glenn nodded. "There were only twenty or thirty left."

"That's still a lot," Daryl said.

"But even more are following us," Michonne said. "We have to keep going."

Daryl nodded. "I know a place."

…

The ravine was little more than a dried-up river bed, but even still it was a hassle for them to cross. It would be even harder for a walker, which could not use caution or plan. On the other side of the ravine was a meadow. Once they reached the relative safety of the meadow Daryl knew that they should stop, but his feet carried him onward as if possessed by one of the ghosts he had been so desperate to avoid. The flowers were more plentiful now than they had ever been before, and while Daryl knew that this was because there was no one left to pick them he could not help but to believe it was because there were now so many more lost children to bloom for.

"This place is nice," Michonne said.

"Yeah," Daryl said. "I came here with my mother."

Cassy was right about one thing. It always came down to the children. His mother had written poems, and she had written them down in her little book. One day some kids from her Sunday school class had stolen the book and ripped all the pages out. Daryl had never seen her so sad in his entire life. Not even his father's fists had ever been able to produce such a morose expression in his wife. Daryl wondered if his father would have envied seven-year-old Cassy if he had known she had done what he could not. Daryl's mother had once written a poem called _Tears of the Cherokee_. It had been all about the children. Now, so many years and terrible, terrible events later, he finally understood. The tears had been for him. In that moment Daryl hated his mother with a powerful, shameful hate. All the things that people did for their children, or didn't do for their children, Daryl wondered if it even really mattered. Daryl could think of only one time when it absolutely had mattered. That first winter, it had mattered then, so much.

Daryl was sneaky. The trap that a lot of people fell into when they were trying to hide something was attempting to make sure no one saw them. The irony of it is that this is one of the most noticeable things that a person can do. To be invisible you have to be in plain sight, and you can get away with almost anything right in front of somebody's face if you are subtle enough about it. Daryl was incredibly subtle when he wanted to be. People expected him to be loud and obnoxious, so when he was quiet he practically disappeared. That's why Daryl wasn't quite sure how Rick had noticed Daryl dumping most of his food into Lori's bowl before he handed it over to her. _Carol asked me to bring you this._ He'd done it before dozens of times without anyone seeing. Whenever there wasn't enough to go around Lori, Carl, and Beth somehow always ended up with larger shares and no one said anything. But it wasn't quite enough for Daryl. A pregnant woman needed to eat. They had been holed up in a decrepit house for the night. Daryl had been on watch on the porch. Rick sat down next to him on the bench.

"I saw what you did."

Daryl refused to turn his head and look at Rick. He just kept staring at the night. "What?"

Rick rubbed his eyes. Rick was exhausted. He needed to rest. But he couldn't, and Daryl understood that. He didn't envy Rick's responsibilities. "I saw what you did with the food."

"I didn't do anything to the food." Daryl sounded offended.

Rick sighed. "You gave Lori your food."

Daryl still refused to look at Rick. "I just brought hers to her. Carol asked-"

"You're lying." Daryl didn't get offended this time. He felt like he should, but honestly he couldn't blame a man as weary as Rick for not wanting to deal with his bullshit.

"I didn't mean nothin by it."

Now Rick sounded confused. "What?"

"I wasn't trying to imply anything."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Finally Daryl forced himself to look at Rick and saw that Rick wore an expression of sincere confusion. "I was just trying to help. I wasn't saying that you couldn't take care of your family or anything. I just saw that we were low on food tonight, and I wasn't hungry anyways."

Rick shook his head. "Sometimes I do not understand you. One minute you're threatening to kill T-dog, and the next you save his life. One minute you don't want anything to do with me, and the next you're sticking by me when everyone is doubting me. Every time I think I almost have you figured out you go and surprise me again. I'm out here to thank you."

That was a surprise. "For what?"

Rick gave Daryl an exasperated expression. "For feeding my wife and unborn child."

"Oh," Daryl looked away again. "You don't need to."

Now Rick had a new topic of interest. "Did you really think I would be offended?"

"I just figured… Because of Shane…" Daryl regretted saying the name the second it was out of his mouth, but then it was too late. Daryl chanced another look at Rick. Rick looked dour.

"Well…" Rick was struggling with his words. "You're nothing like Shane."

Daryl nodded. That was true.

For some reason after looking at Daryl Rick felt the need to elaborate. "Shane was such a loud person. He was my best friend from the time we were in high school. He was always in your face, making sure you knew what was on his mind. The man was always more than willing to do you a favor, but once he did it he had to tell you about it, every chance he got. You, you're a quiet man. You do what you do, and that's it. That's why you're a survivor."

Daryl thought he understood that. He understood that there were layers to what Rick had just said. It wasn't just about noise attracting walkers. It was about the fact that you had to have someone's back if you wanted them to have yours. You couldn't keep score. "Get some sleep."

Rick nodded. "All right. Thank you, for everything."

"It's what we do."

As Daryl stared at the pale roses he could feel Michonne and Glenn behind him, but as long as he didn't see them they weren't really there. "Can I tell you something?"


	7. Dreamer

"Of course," Michonne said.

Daryl was aware she had spoken, but he didn't really hear her. He wasn't talking to her either, but to the roses, the children's ghosts and the gods of his mother's ancestors. "This place is so small. We didn't have a high school. So all the teenagers got bussed over to this town a few miles up the road. I was fourteen and I met kids that weren't from my neighborhood for the first time in my life. There was this boy my age… He had green eyes." Daryl remembered the exact shade of those shiny green eyes. They looked so alive. Shiny green eyes and dirty blond hair saturated in grease, those were the things Daryl remembered about Mike. "We made out behind the gym during lunch. I didn't think anybody saw me, but they did. Cassy did. She and a bunch of the kids from the neighborhood beat the crap out of me." Daryl remembered his terrible ignorance, and the discovery of it. He had thought his life was bad before, but those last three years before his dad died were hell on earth. Getting slapped around and teased were nothing compared to what happened after everyone found out 'that Dixon boy' was gay. The next day, when Daryl was still too beat up to go back to school, his dad found out what yesterday's fight had been about. Daryl's dad wasted no time in beginning his son's punishment. Daryl's dad used the nearest available improvised weapon he had. He had started beating on his son with an empty beer bottle. Daryl remembered his terror that the glass would break and slice him open.

"So that's why…" Glenn trailed off. Daryl knew what he was thinking. Glenn was remembering all the stuff that Cassy had said, and figuring out what it really meant.

Daryl had tried so hard to forget about those first seventeen years. He had tried to force himself to let go of everything, especially what he was. Now it was all back. All the memories were laid before him in the milky petals of the roses. Years of terror and abuse all came rushing back, and Daryl felt incredibly tired. "I wanted to be somebody else, but I can't be."

"Well we like who you are," Glenn said. "If it's any consolation."

It was actually, but only a little bit. "We need to find the others."

Michonne stepped forward so that she was standing next to him, and then she knelt down and picked a single flower. She hesitated before speaking. Daryl thought long and hard about why she said what she did for days afterwards and finally came to the conclusion that she must have thought she owed them her own heartbreaking story after hearing his. "I was at a refugee camp in the beginning. When the walls came down I was on a run." Michonne brushed her fingers over the petals with the lightest touch. "When we got back the others told me it would be suicide to go in, but I didn't care. I found my boyfriend and our friend that we had gotten to the camp with, but I couldn't find my son." Michonne lowered her head and inhaled the scent of the Cherokee rose. She looked like she was praying. Maybe she was. She was praying to whoever made the flowers bloom for the dead children. She was praying to whoever took her son. "I knew that I wasn't going to find him. He was so small, my dear sweet boy. It can't have taken very long for them to have… finished him." Daryl saw drops of water slide down Michonne's face and hit the ground. Daryl realized his mother had gotten it backwards. The flowers didn't bloom where the Mothers' tears fell. The tears fell onto the flowers and the grief fed the snowy wild roses and helped them grow. Daryl didn't know what possessed him, but he reached out and gently touched Michonne's shoulder. She put her hand on top of his. "He was gone."

"I didn't know you had a son," Glenn said.

Daryl turned and looked at Glenn. Glenn's eyes were wide with surprise. The young man was processing all of the information he had just been given. Daryl knew it had to be stunning for someone as guileless as Glenn to discover that people he thought he knew so well were hiding such important things deep inside themselves. Daryl turned to Michonne, still sliding her fingers across the smooth petals in her silent prayer. "Do you think there's a reason," he asked.

Michonne drew her hand across her face, cleaning it of tears. She got to her feet, still clutching her flower. "There has to be. Even if it's just so we can be here for each other, there is a reason that all of us are still alive." Michonne carefully placed the flower in her shirt pocket.

Daryl nodded. That would just have to be enough. "We can do it, the three of us."

"What do you mean," Glenn asked.

"We can take out the guys in the church. There are only four left," Daryl said.

Glenn nodded. He looked nervous, but determined. "Yeah, we can."

Michonne drew her sword and tilted the blade back and forth so the steel reflected the sunlight all over the meadow. She seemed to be pondering something. "We should hurry."

…

Daryl drew in a deep breath. He stood in front of the church. His mother's funeral had been in this church. Merle had sat between Daryl and their dad during the service. The preacher had went on and on about everlasting life, but Daryl hadn't heard a word. It took all of his concentration to keep himself from bawling. _Is now really the time to be taking a jaunt down memory lane baby brother? Oughtn't you be paying attention right about now?_ Daryl wanted to tell Merle to shut up, but of course he wasn't really there, so the command wouldn't have much of an effect. Daryl just wanted all of this to be over, done with. _Don't get reckless now._

"Shut up," Daryl whispered.

Maybe Merle did hear him, because he did shut up for a little while. Daryl was almost to the door of the church when it swung open and Daryl saw James standing there pointing a rifle at his head. "You've got a lot of nerve coming back here. I should just blow your head off now."

"Don't you want your leader back?"

James scoffed. "You probably killed her."

"Why would I do that? We're all old friends aren't we? I came here to broker a deal."

"You're high if you think we're making deals with the likes of you," James said.

Daryl nodded. That was pretty much the response he was expecting. "Well why don't you let me in and we can have a nice little chat about the matter? I'm unarmed." Daryl spread out his arms to show that he had no weapons on him. "We can work something out, can't we?"

"Do you have a death wish or something?"

Daryl shrugged. "It's your call man."

For a moment Daryl thought James was actually going to blow his head off. He thought about how stupid it would be to die this way, as a result of his own stupid plan because of a situation he walked right into. But James gestured for Daryl to enter the church, keeping his gun trained on him the whole time. Just as Daryl had expected, discipline had completely broken down in Cassy's absence. There was nobody on watch. Tommy, Greg and Johnny were fighting over a rifle. They immediately stopped when James ushered Daryl in at gunpoint, but the fact that they were leaderless and disorganized remained. Daryl had to stop himself from smirking at the turn of events. They had cut off the head of the snake and now the body was decaying.

"What's he doing here," Tommy asked.

"He wants to make a deal so we can get Cassy back," James said.

"What an idiot," Johnny said. "He just handed us a bargaining chip. Now that we have him we can just trade his life for Cassy's. Let's cut off one of his fingers and throw it out to the rest of them with a note attached like in the movies." Johnny fingered his knife eagerly.

"They're not here," Daryl said. "They're far away where you can't find them and they won't be moving until I come back with your answer to our proposition."

"Let's just kill him," Tommy said. "I'm sick of this asshole."

Daryl looked at Tommy's dull green eyes. There was a lifelessness in Tommy that could have any number of origins. Daryl thought that in a way all of these lost children of the Aryans were dead on the inside. No one had really wanted them, and the beliefs they devoted their lives to were hollow and ridiculous. Their legacy was less ethnic purity and more grain alcohol, tobacco and crystal meth. Daryl almost felt sorry for them, almost. They had never really been given a chance to be anything other than what they were. Then again, the old world was ashes at their feet, no more there than Daryl's burnt down home. These people had chosen to live by the old rules and the old order. They had chosen to hate and kill. That was their choice. "If you kill me you'll never get your leader back. I doubt you'll find another pretty, long-legged blond with a penchant for lynching anytime soon. They were in short supply before, but now…" Daryl wasn't an idiot; he knew why Cassy was in charge. For all intents and purposes she was the last woman in the world and they all wanted to keep her happy. It always came down to the children.

"Well maybe we'll just make do with that pretty little brunette y'all had with you when you lit out of here. I'd ride that all night long and be ready for more come morning," Greg said.

Daryl clenched his fists. Now was not the time to let his temper rule him. By now Michonne should have been done scaling the eastern wall of the church and seen that the steeple was empty. She should have signaled Glenn that the way through the cellar was clear and now be quietly descending the stairs. Soon the bloodbath would begin. The thought made Daryl feel eerily calm. Daryl felt the same stillness blanket him that often did when he was about to take a crucial shot. The time for thinking was done. Now was the time for doing. "We didn't really get a good look at her face though," Johnny said. "She could have pimples or some shit. Gross."

"That don't bother me," Tommy said. "I'll just turn her around."

Daryl saw her out of the corner of his eye. She was water, and she flowed from the door to her target. His neck had become a red waterfall before anyone even realized that Michonne was there. Glenn was only a second later than her, jamming a knife into Greg's temple as blood gushed from Johnny's neck. At the same time that Michonne grabbed Johnny's gun and lifted it to aim at Tommy, while using Johnny's body as a shield, Daryl turned and shoved the barrel of James' gun away from him. Daryl swung at the other man. James managed to shove Daryl back and send him sprawling to the ground. As Daryl tried to regain his feet James pointed his rifle at Daryl and took aim. Daryl only had time for a single thought: _At least Michonne and Glenn are going to make it out of here all right._ Before James could pull the trigger Michonne, having dispatched Tommy, turned her weapon on him. As a bullet passed through James' chest his body convulsed and his gun went off. Daryl felt heat and pain, and then he felt absolutely nothing.

…

Daryl looked up at the white sky. He was lying in a field of flowers, white petals stretched as far as the eye could see. His eyes burned with the brightness of the white light reflecting off of white surfaces. He put his arm over his eyes. He heard somebody crouch down in front of him. Daryl removed his arm and lifted his head. His brother was smirking at him, like he always did, looking infinitely amused. "You lying down on the job baby brother?"

"'M tired," Daryl said in a weak voice.

"You a pussy is what you are. Get the hell up."

Daryl sighed. "Think I might just stay here for a while."

"There's nobody else here baby brother, just you and me. You won't find Sophia wandering around here, and you definitely won't find mom. They went to the heaven people like you and me don't get to go to." Merle shook Daryl's leg. "Now get the hell up little girl."

Daryl lashed out, kicking Merle in the face and knocking him on his ass. Daryl sat up and glared at his brother, daring him to retaliate. "I ain't a damn girl, why did you always have to say that to me? Why couldn't you have tried to support me or help me? Why were you so hateful?"

Merle laughed. "I had plenty of hate to spare. No matter how much I spent on the pansies, niggers, spics and democrats I never seemed to use up much. But I never hated you brother."

Daryl snorted. "Could have fooled me. Anyways, you're a hypocrite. You with your KKK and your neo-Nazi bullshit, when we was no more 'pure-blooded' than any of the people you were giving a hard time. You were a terrible person, and you were a terrible brother."

Merle nodded. "But I loved you."

That was when Daryl realized he was dreaming. The unnatural white sky and the infinite field of flowers didn't tip him off, but the fact that this exchange mirrored what Michonne had said to him about Merle earlier did. He was dreaming, or… "Am I dead?"

Merle laughed again. "That little brother is entirely up to you."

"I don't want to die." Daryl said it like a confession.

"Then get up," Merle said.

"I don't think I can," Daryl admitted.

"Ain't my problem," Merle said. "Get off your lazy ass and go help your boyfriend."

Daryl blushed. "He's not my boyfriend."

"So what? You're still in love with him," Merle pointed out.

Daryl wanted to deny it. That was his go-to defense. Deny, deny, deny, deflect, deflect, deflect, get angry, get violent. There didn't seem much of a point now though. This was a dream, and he was the only living person here. He knew the truth. He might as well fess up to it. "I do love him, but it doesn't matter. He could never love me back, and I'm okay with that. I just want him to still be my friend. I want him to trust me, and care about me, even if he never will in the way that I care about him. I… I ain't ashamed anymore. I got no cause to be," Daryl insisted.

"Then why all the secrets," Merle asked.

"I told you, I want him to trust me. He was the first person to ever trust me, to rely on me for anything, and I can't lose that. I won't lose that." Daryl looked at a flower close to him and thought about the children. He wondered which flower was for Sophia and which was for Michonne's son, whose name he didn't know. He thought about what would happen if a flower ever bloomed here for Carl or Judith. He thought about never being able to take Carl on another hunting lesson, and never seeing little asskicker take her first steps. "I want to wake up," he said.

"Well then get the hell up baby brother. We ain't got all day," Merle said.

"I feel so weak. I think I got shot," Daryl said.

"Hey I got shot," Merle said. "I still managed to get up and walk around."

"Yeah, but you were dead," Daryl said.

Merle got to his feet. "Good point." He offered his little brother a hand.

Daryl grunted out a thanks as he took Merle's hand and used his brother's strength to pull himself to his feet. The white lights grew brighter and for a moment Daryl thought he was going to pass out. In the back of his mind he knew that would mean death. He didn't want to die, not without being able to say goodbye. The light grew so bright that it was screaming at him and just when he knew he couldn't take it for another second he woke up. The pain was intolerable and made Daryl want to thrash around and bellow. Over his face, holding a wet rag to his forehead, leaned none other than Rick Grimes. Daryl wanted to say something, but he succeeded only in coughing up a bright red splash of blood. "You're going to be okay," Rick promised. Daryl knew how unlikely that was, but when Rick made the promise Daryl believed him. Daryl coughed up more scarlet fluid. Rick wiped the blood away from his face. "We're going to get you home and then Dr. S is going to stitch you right up. Just hold on." Daryl blinked and realized that they were in a car. Every once in a while the car would jolt and the pain Daryl thought couldn't get any worse would prove him wrong. Daryl moved his hand over his body, trying to find the wound that was causing him such distress. Rick grabbed his hand, stopping him. "Just hold on."

Daryl looked into Rick's blue eyes, full of storm clouds of worry. Daryl glanced at the front of the car. Sasha was driving, managing to keep the vehicle steady even with a bullet hole in her arm. Maggie was in the passenger seat, looking at him with her own eyes blown wide with panic and concern. Daryl wanted to reassure her, and Rick too, but the pain was becoming overwhelming and he was slipping away again. This time he did not dream. He slept in a comforting darkness, where neither pain, nor thought nor memory were allowed.


	8. Patient

When Daryl woke up it was because someone was changing his bandage. Daryl opened his eyes and saw his favorite one-legged farmer seated in a chair next to the cot he was lying on and expertly applying the white gauze. "Be careful there horse doctor," Daryl mumbled.

Daryl heard Hershel chuckle. "I'm glad to see your spirit is as strong as ever."

"Can't keep me down for long," Daryl said.

"You have a penchant for getting shot in the abdomen," Hershel said. "It's worrisome."

"Only twice," Daryl groused. "Sides, the first one was more of an impalement."

Hershel sighed and shook his head. "What happened out there?"

"Others didn't tell you?" That seemed odd to Daryl.

"Rick just said that all of you ran into some bad people. Maggie and Sasha have been incredibly tight-lipped on the subject. Of course Glenn and Michonne aren't back yet, so-"

"What?!" Daryl started to sit up.

Hershel gently, but forcefully, placed his hands on Daryl's shoulders and pushed him back onto the cot. "Rick said they stayed behind to take care of some things. He said they probably wouldn't be more than twelve hours behind all of you. It's only been six."

Daryl's heart was racing and his breathing labored. "They shouldn't have stayed behind."

"Why not? What happened out there?"

Daryl closed his eyes. That was a good question. Now that he was in the prison talking to Hershel everything that had happened felt like a bad dream. Once his lids were lowered Daryl felt exhaustion come over him again. He struggled to stay awake and open his eyes once more, but he felt himself slipping deeper and deeper into unconsciousness with each second. The last thing he felt before the darkness took him again was Hershel's hand on his brow, then nothing.

…

"Hershel and Dr. S said he'll make a full recovery. They got the bullet out and once he recovers from the blood loss he should be fine. You don't have to look so morose."

Daryl fought for awareness. He wanted to know who was speaking. "I wish you had waited for us. Maybe this wouldn't have happened if we had all been fighting together."

"Rick it all worked out-"

"You call this working out?" Rick sounded frustrated.

Michonne sighed. Daryl was pretty sure it was Michonne anyway. "We're all alive, and that's what matters. We made it back home. We don't need to dwell on anything else."

"Do you think… he'll be okay?"

"You don't mean physically, do you?"

"No," Rick said simply.

"Daryl's tough. He's put up with a lot," Michonne said.

"That's not really an answer," Rick pointed out. There was silence for a little while, and Daryl wondered if they had somehow left without Daryl hearing them. "What's that?"

"It's a Cherokee Rose," Michonne said.

"Sometimes… I feel like even after everything we've been through and all the things we've done for each other I still don't really know him at all. Maybe that's okay… or maybe I'm just a coward. I should have asked him why he didn't want to go on the run from the beginning."

"It might not have made a difference. Besides, I don't really think that's the issue."

"What do you mean?"

Daryl heard Michonne sigh again. "Sometimes you're an idiot."

"Thanks," Rick said in a dry voice. "Care to explain?"

"Not really. Go get some rest. I'll stay with him."

"I can-"

"We'll switch in a few hours. Go."

Rick chuckled. "Yes mam." A few minutes after Daryl heard the door close he managed to open his eyes and was greeted by a wide smile from Michonne. He tried to sit up and she helped him do so, stacking pillows behind him so he would have some support.

"How do you feel?"

_Like a poisonous snake is teething on my guts. _"'M all right. How bout you?"

"I'm fine," Michonne said softly.

Daryl nodded. He had something he wanted to say, but he was having trouble summoning the courage to say it. He locked eyes with her. He had never been good with eye contact, but he forced himself to keep his eyes on her. Warmth radiated from her irises. "Are you staying?"

At first she didn't understand. "I'll stay with you for as long as you can tolerate me."

"That's not what I meant."

Michonne was quick to pick things up. "Oh." She looked away.

"You don't have to go out there anymore," Daryl said. "There's nothing good that comes from chasing ghosts. All of mine are dead now, and it doesn't make things any better."

Michonne placed her hand over his. "I want to stay here with all of you, but I can't let him go unpunished for what he's done. So many innocent people are dead because of him."

"He is being punished. He's all alone. That's its own hell."

Michonne bit her lip. "Daryl…" She looked at him again. "I can't let it go."

"I know. Andrea is dead, but you want to hold onto her anyway you can. This though, it ain't the right way. Staying here, with us, that's the best way. She said, at the end, that she was glad you found us. I heard her and know you did too. She wouldn't want this for you."

Michonne smiled at him. "Does it really mean that much to you?"

Daryl tried to move into a more comfortable position and winced when he accidentally set off a flare of pain. He tried to think of a way he could explain to her just how much she meant to him. He wished he was better with words. "You don't belong out there, with them."

"With who," Michonne asked.

Daryl thought about the shambling corpses, about the Governor and about the people like his former peers. "The dead things. You're still alive. You said there was a reason."

Michonne clutched Daryl's hand. "I did say that. I meant it."

"So you'll stay?"

Michonne leaned forward, and for a moment Daryl thought that she was going to kiss him, which she did, but not on the lips, which would have been weird. Michonne pressed her lips to his forehead. "I'll stay." Michonne looked toward the door. "Do you want me to go tell Carol that you're awake? She's been frantic ever since you got back. I heard Dr. S had to kick her out during the surgery." Michonne tried to infuse her voice with levity, but she couldn't exactly hide that she had been worried too. Everyone had been panicking for a little while there.

"Yeah," Daryl said. "I'd like to see her."

"If you don't want to be left alone-"

"Jesus Mich, I'm not _six_."

Michonne snickered and then squeezed his hand once more before letting go. He watched her walk away. The silence that filled the room when she was gone was deafening. Daryl closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Now that she was gone he found, to his embarrassment, that he really didn't want to be alone right now. A pale ghost with blond hair kept trying to get his attention with her whispers. Soon enough though, the silence and any ghosts that came with it were chased away. People poured into the room. Carol was first. She hugged him fiercely, and he returned the favor. When they broke apart Daryl saw that Beth, who was holding a squirming Judith in her arms, was smirking. She was clearly attaching a lot of meaning to that hug and Daryl found some humor in her blatant supposition. Rick, Michonne, Glenn, poor Maggie on a pair of crutches, Hershel, Carl, Sasha and Tyreese were all in the room as well, and Daryl could see some people standing out in the hallway. Daryl was a little overwhelmed by the attention.

Carl ran up to Daryl. "How'd you get shot? My dad won't tell me."

"Carl," Rick sounded equal parts exasperated and amused.

"You don't have to tell me," Carl said. "But if you want to…"

Daryl smiled at the kid. "The usual way, someone pointed a gun at me and then pulled the trigger." Carl rolled his eyes at Daryl. "It really isn't any more interesting than that."

"You really scared us for a little while there," Maggie said.

"Ain't many things that can kill me," Daryl promised Maggie.

Carol snorted in disbelief. "Bullets probably make the list," she said.

"Apparently not," Daryl countered.

"You're incorrigible," Carol said. "The next time you scare me like that, make me think that you're going to die, I'm going to make you regret it. Hell, a few weeks from now when you're fully recovered you might just end up with a bowl of soup spiked with laxatives."

"You wouldn't do that," Daryl said confidently.

"You think I wouldn't stoop that low," Carol asked.

"I think you wouldn't waste perfectly good soup." Carol considered this and then shrugged, conceding that she probably wouldn't waste food just for vengeance. Her shrug elicited a laugh from several people. When Judith heard the laughter she began to wave her tiny fists and shriek, wanting to be a part of the mirth. Beth soothed her with a huge grin on her face.

"Don't threaten to mess with his food," Rick said jokingly. "He doesn't need an excuse to eat even less than he already does." Daryl glared at Rick, who didn't seem to mind at all.

Judith was still fussing. Carol held out her arms for the baby, and Beth willingly handed her over to the more experienced woman. Instead of pulling out any of her mothering experience to calm the baby, Carol just turned and deposited Judith in Daryl's arms like that was the most natural place in the world for her to be. "I think Judy was worried too," Carol said.

At first Daryl was a little surprised to suddenly have a squirming baby in his arms, but then he was adjusting to make sure she was as comfortable as possible. "You didn't have to worry about me," Daryl assured the infant. "I'll always come back home to see you."

"That's too cute," Glenn gushed. "I wish I had a camera."

"You're lucky you don't," Daryl said. "I'm not too laid up to kick your ass."

"You definitely are," Hershel countered Daryl. "You are to engage in no strenuous activity until both I and Dr. Subramanian have cleared you for doing so, understood?"

"Why both of you?"

"So you can't lie and tell one of us the other cleared you."

Daryl grumbled while the group laughed some more. Honestly though, he couldn't be too mad with Judith in his arms. She was poking him with her tiny fists. "Can you believe that they don't trust me," Daryl asked her. She pulled on the fabric of his blanket and began chewing on the material. "Me neither," Daryl said as though she had answered. "Paranoid ain't they?"

Judith stared up at him with her big round eyes. Holding her, Daryl couldn't help but feel that everything was right with the world. Judith had that effect on a person. As horrible as his experience in that godforsaken town had been Daryl felt it all fading away when he was surrounded by this much warmth and love. Even thinking such a thing felt hokey, but at this point Daryl didn't care. There was a lot he didn't care about anymore. He knew what really mattered now. Beth eventually took Judith back when Hershel insisted they all give Daryl some space so he could rest and heal. Nobody looked like they really wanted to go, but one by one they did until Rick was the last person in the room, just like Daryl had hoped he would be.

"Rick,"

Rick had been on his way to the door, but he immediately stopped and turned back around at the sound of his name. "You alright? You need anything?"

Daryl shook his head, losing courage with every passing second. "No uh… I was wonderin if we could… talk? I'm sure you're busy, and you're probably behind on your farm work, but maybe later if you have a second you could stop by. There's something I-"

As Daryl had spoken Rick pulled up a chair and sat next to Daryl's bedside. "Let's talk."

"There's something I never told you." _Way to be vague._

"Do you want to tell me?" That was the question, wasn't it? Did Daryl want Rick to know that he was gay? On the one hand Daryl was tired of living in fear of what Rick would do if he found out. On the other hand what if Daryl had been right all along? What if Rick kicked him out? Daryl thought that if such a thing were to happen it would probably kill him. Still, now Michonne and Glenn knew, and once Glenn knew a thing it was only a matter of time before everybody knew. That wasn't a judgement of Glenn. The man simply couldn't keep a secret, and since everybody knew he couldn't keep a secret if you told him something and everybody found out that was on you. Rick was eventually going to find out, and that meant the real question was whether Daryl wanted Rick to find out now or later, from him or someone else. "Daryl?"

"I'm gay." _What the hell was that?! You just blurted it out like that! No lead up or anything, just: 'Hey Rick I'm gay.' What the hell is wrong with you?! _Daryl immediately started trying to backpedal. "I mean… That's not what I meant to say. I meant… I didn't mean…"

"I think that is what you meant to say."

Daryl couldn't read Rick's expression, and it was killing him. "Well yeah, but I wasn't going to say it like that. I was going to try to build up to that. What the hell am I doing?"

Rick shook his head. "There's really only one way to say it. You can switch out a few words here and there, but it all boils down to the same thing. I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me this, but I already knew you were gay." Rick looked a little unsure at that last part, like he wasn't sure if he should have included it. Daryl's head was spinning. How could he have known?

"What do you mean you already knew?"

"Well I'm not an idiot, first of all. I used to investigate things for a living, so I do have some observational skills. I didn't know for sure until this trip, but I've suspected for a while that you might… not be straight. Even Glenn talks about sex sometimes, and he used to be the definition of socially awkward. Plus it explains both why you never hooked up with Carol even though she was throwing herself all over you and why she backed off." Rick looked a little uncomfortable to be talking about this. "I'm not saying a young straight man can't never talk about sex and not take advantage of a sexual opportunity with one of the few single women still alive in the world, but it just sort of made sense to me. I'm trying really hard not to be offensive right now, but honestly I've never had this conversation before so if I'm being an insensitive prick please tell me." Rick's discomfort would have been amusing, if it weren't only a fraction of the size of Daryl's own. Daryl had not been expecting this. Rick knew? Rick _knew_?

"No uh… You're fine. I'm just… really surprised."

"Well like I said, it was just a theory. Honestly though, I don't spend a lot of time thinking about other people's sexuality because who cares right? But uh… Obviously your past experiences have made this a sensitive topic for you, and I really am glad that you're confiding in me. I think it's healthy." This was just surreal. This was absolutely surreal in every way.

"Thanks. I gotta say, wasn't expecting that," Daryl said.

"That I knew?"

"That," Daryl admitted. "And that you would be so okay with it."

Rick seemed confused by this. "Why would I care that you're gay?"

Daryl didn't really know how to answer that question, but he felt that Rick deserved his best attempt. "After my dad found out, there was an incident at school and he found out because of it, he made my life hell. It wasn't just what he did. It was what he said. He'd always said stuff about gay people, but once he found out I kissed a boy he really amped up. He would say stuff like that all gay men were pedophiles, stalking places where there were unattended little boys so that they could take advantage of them. He would say something like that, and then laugh and say that was how a democrat was made, by a little boy being raped. He would say the most crass and horrible things. I had to drop out of school after the incident, so I had to listen to that stuff everyday unless he was out on a bender. The thing was, other people in town would say similar things, so I thought some of it was just… common knowledge. I thought, because you have a son, that you wouldn't trust me if you knew. I thought you would have made me leave."

Rick didn't look confused anymore, or embarrassed. He just looked sad. "I'm so sorry that people said those things to you. I can't imagine how that must have felt. I wish I had known that you were afraid of that, because I could have told you that would never happen. Daryl I trust you absolutely. I trust you with my life. I trust you with my children's lives. You've never let me down on either count and I don't think you ever would." Rick stared at Daryl intently, as though willing him to understand. Daryl wanted to understand, but he was afraid. Could it be true?

"I wouldn't," Daryl agreed. "I'd never betray you."

"I know." Rick spoke softly. "It's a two-way street Daryl. I know you would never do anything to hurt me or anybody else here. You need to trust that we feel the same about you."

"I'm trying," Daryl said.

"All I can say is… keep trying. Know that we're always here for you. You don't have to always be the tough unflappable guy. It's okay to need us. We need you all the time."

"I'm not weak," Daryl insisted.

Rick spoke his response in a very quiet voice. "All of the weak people are dead."

Daryl nodded. That was a good point. "Michonne said she was going to stay."

Rick seemed a little thrown by the sudden topic change, but he adjusted. "She told me."

"I talked her into it. I worry about her out there."

"We all do. I'm glad she's staying." Rick chuckled. "You know, sometimes she's even more difficult to figure out than you. A while back I could swear she was putting the moves on me, and now I can't get a rise out of her. Maybe I just missed my shot. There was a little while where I'm pretty sure she had eyes for you, but I'm assuming nothing ever came of that."

Daryl didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Rick Grimes could claim he wasn't an idiot all he wanted, but Michonne was right. He really, really was. "No, nothing ever did."


	9. Lover

Daryl sighed in frustration. Even though Dr. S and Hershel had both cleared him for getting up and moving around they still refused to let him go outside. Everybody on gate duty knew not to let Daryl out no matter what he said, and frankly it was embarrassing. So Daryl was just wandering around the courtyard going crazy. Sometimes Rick let him help out with his crops, but he was never there for more than an hour before Rick's mollycoddling became absolutely unbearable. Rick would constantly try to force water down his throat and make sure he took frequent breaks. It was practically torture. Now Daryl was alone with this thoughts, and they were far from pleasant. No one that had been on that fateful run had revealed so much as a word about it. Sasha hadn't even said anything to her brother. Glenn and Maggie hadn't even answered any of Hershel's questions. People had started to talk. There were all kinds of rumors going around and most of them were frankly awful. Everyone knew that the group had run into trouble and Daryl, Maggie and Sasha had been shot. One of the rumors going around was that the women in the group had been raped and that was why everybody was so tight-lipped about what had happened. Bob had treated Maggie and Sasha while Dr. S and Hershel did life-saving surgery on Daryl, and for a while people had pestered him with questions about whether he had 'seen any sign' of assault on them when he treated them. Bob always shook his head in disgust and walked away, which gave Daryl a lot of respect for the man. How the hell examining a bullet wound in somebody's arm would have given any information on the subject anyway was beyond Daryl, but Daryl still respected Bob's refusal to take part in the speculation. There were other rumors, but none of them even came close to the truth. Daryl felt guilty for subjecting his friends to so much scrutiny, but he couldn't bear to reveal the truth, and he knew they would never betray his secrets. So the whispers continued, and added to the chaos swirling in Daryl's brain.

"Heads up!"

Daryl looked up and saw a baseball sailing towards him. On impulse, instead of moving out of the way, Daryl ran back and caught the ball. He looked toward where the call had been coming from and saw Carl, Beth, Zack and Patrick. Daryl whistled to catch their attention and then gestured for them to go long. Carl began to eagerly run. Daryl threw the ball as hard as he could and watched Carl race toward it. There was something so childlike and innocent about the eagerness to catch a baseball. Wouldn't it be great to have one's greatest worry be whether or not one was going to catch a ball? As the ball came toward Carl's hand Daryl wasn't sure if Carl was going to make the catch, but a few seconds later Carl was waving the ball around with the greatest pride while Beth, Zack and Patrick clapped. Daryl chuckled and shook his head before turning back around to resume his walk. A few moment later he heard the sound of footsteps behind him and sure enough when he turned around Carl was standing there. He was panting with exertion. Daryl found the sight of Carl, lobster-red, sweating and grinning ear to ear, to be hopelessly amusing. Daryl snickered at the boy. Carl stuck out his tongue. "Come play with us."

"Sorry, no strenuous activity for me kiddo."

"I saw you lift a twenty-pound bag of rice for Ms. Richards earlier," Carl said.

"It was mostly empty," Daryl lied.

"I saw her open the bag." Carl looked particularly smug with that line.

Daryl sighed. "What do you want kid?"

"Just come play with us. If you do I'll forget I saw you lift the bag before the next time I see Hershel. He told all of us to keep an eye on you, but sometimes I forget things."

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Sometimes you're downright diabolical, ya know that kid?"

"Come on, my dad said if we got another adult to play he'd join in." As Daryl followed Carl he decided playing baseball with a bunch of teenagers wouldn't be so bad. Somehow Beth roped Glenn and Maggie into the game as well, and soon enough they were drawing a chalk diamond on the grass and getting the mats from the foot wells of the cars to use as home plate and the bases. Daryl ended up on a team with Maggie, Beth and Zack against Rick, Glenn, Carl and Patrick. It turned out Maggie was ridiculously competitive, and Daryl's plan of taking it easy on the kids was soon thrown right out the window. He was trying to steal third when Rick practically tackled him. Daryl hit the ground and heard Rick whoop loudly while Carl cheered.

"You're out!" Rick was practically crooning.

Maggie was shaking her head in disappointment while Zack patted Beth comfortingly on the shoulder. Taking sports way too seriously was just a Greene thing he guessed. Glenn was taunting his wife as he took the bat from her. She glared at him with fire in her eyes, but the fire melted away when he leaned in for a kiss. It was all in good fun. Maggie threw her arms around Glenn's neck and kissed harder. "Good job Maggie! Distract their batter!" Daryl's shout distracted the lovebirds and Glenn turned to glare at his opponent. Daryl chuckled as he got to his feet and brushed dirt from his pants. He sure did love giving those two a hard time.

"Are you okay," Rick asked. "I didn't mean to tackle you so hard."

"Jesus Grimes, I ain't made of glass."

Rick rolled his eyes. "I really only meant to tag you with the ball. I don't have as much control over my reflexes as I used to. I think I'm getting old." Rick grinned at Daryl.

Daryl shook his head. "Well you're up grandpa."

Rick chuckled as he shook his head. "Hey now, not for a few years at least."

"You never know with these teenagers," Daryl said, trying to get under Rick's skin.

"Thanks Daryl. I don't have enough to be paranoid about."

"Well-"

"Daryl!" Maggie's shout ended the conversation. "You're pitching!"

Daryl smirked at Rick. "My boss is calling."

"Get to work," Rick said.

…

Glenn groaned. "I can't feel my legs."

Daryl was flat on his back, looking up at the clear blue sky. This was nice. "I can't believe you beat us," Maggie groused. "I want a do over. I think Rick cheated."

"Rick doesn't cheat," Daryl said casually.

"Well then Carl cheated," Beth said.

"I can see that," Daryl agreed. "He blackmailed me into playing."

"What did he blackmail you with," Zack asked.

"Not saying," Daryl said. "You'll tattle to Hershel for brownie points."

"I wouldn't do that," Zack said, sounding offended.

"Yeah you would," Beth said. "You get so nervous around my daddy."

"Yeah, I probably would," Zack admitted.

"Oh! Maybe Carl saw Daryl kissing Carol," Beth exclaimed.

Maggie snorted in amusement while Daryl sighed in frustration. "For the last time, there is nothing going on between me and Carol. She's just a friend." Beth was like a dog with a bone.

"It's either Carol or Michonne and I think Rick is into Michonne."

Daryl suddenly became more interested. "Why is that?"

"They're always up late at night 'talking' together."

"How do you know," Glenn asked.

"Judith usually gets me up at some point between midnight and four in the morning, and I hear them outside the cellblock. I don't eavesdrop or anything, because that would be wrong, but it sounds like things are getting pretty heated. I think Rick's conflicted, you know, about Lori."

Maggie sighed. "Let's talk about something else."

Beth either didn't hear her sister, or she ignored her. "I think Michonne is really into Rick, but he's the one holding back. It makes sense. We all know how much she loves Carl."

"Beth," Glenn said. "We really don't need to be talking about this."

"Why not? They aren't here. Nobody here is going to say anything. Right Zack? Daryl?"

Daryl continued to stare at the bright blue sky, trying to block out the sound of Beth's pretty voice. She was such a sweet girl. She had no idea how painful her words were. "I won't say anything," Zack promised his girlfriend. "I don't really care if Michonne and Rick hook up."

"And neither does Daryl, right?"

"Beth," Maggie said.

"I know you and Glenn don't either, so what is the big deal?"

Daryl got to his feet. "I've gotta go."

"Daryl," Glenn started. Daryl didn't stick around to hear what Glenn was going to say.

Daryl made his way across the courtyard, pretending he couldn't hear Maggie admonish Beth in a harsh whisper or Beth protest with a whiny: "What did I say?" Daryl made his way into the prison, but he didn't head for C block. He wanted to be alone, so he made his way toward the cells in the tombs they used for storage. They were usually empty, but there were lights down there for when someone had to get something. As luck would have it someone had already had Daryl's idea and he heard voices as he made his way down the hall. He stopped.

"I don't know what you want from me." Rick wasn't shouting, but his voice was heated.

"I don't want anything from you Rick," Michonne said.

"When did that happen?"

"Does it matter?"

"Oh come off it Michonne. Just talk to me. Tell me what I did."

"You didn't do anything. You've done absolutely nothing wrong."

"Okay, well I happen to know that 'you didn't do anything' is woman code for 'there was something you were supposed to do and didn't,' so why don't you just tell me what it is?"

"First of all, that's incredibly patronizing. Secondly, this isn't about you and me."

"Well according to you, there is no you and me," Rick said.

"If you mean romantically, then no, there isn't," Michonne said.

"I'm not crazy. I know what I saw. You were hitting on me, admit it."

"That was before."

"Before what? Before the run?" Rick sounded incredibly exasperated.

"It's not about that."

Daryl knew he should leave, but he didn't. "The timelines match up."

"Could you stop being a cop for one damn second," Michonne demanded.

"Just tell me what this is about."

"It's not my place to tell you," Michonne said.

"Then whose is it?"

"It's not my place to tell you that either."

Rick groaned. "You're driving me crazy. I know that something is wrong, that it's my fault and that I'm supposed to fix it, but I can't know what it is, who is concerns or how I'm supposed to go about fixing it? How on earth is that fair? We can't do stuff like this now."

"How can you be so blind that you don't see what's right in front of your face?"

"What is in front of my face?" Rick sounded like he was ready to scream.

Michonne sighed. She lowered her voice. "It's you Rick," she whispered. "It has always been you, but you refuse to see it. I don't know if you're embarrassed, or if you just don't want the hassle, but you refuse to see. There is something staring you in the face and you refuse to look at him." Michonne stopped suddenly. She realized her slip-up a second too late to correct it.

"Him?"

"Damn it," Michonne said.

"You're talking about Daryl," Rick realized.

"Of course I'm talking about Daryl. Who else would I be talking about?"

"I thought you were the one who liked me," Rick admitted.

"I did. I do. But he doesn't like you Rick; he _loves _you. You really don't see it?"

"Why didn't he tell me?"

"Why do you think?"

"Right," Rick said. "It's Daryl, I know."

"You have to do something. Either turn him down or… don't. But make a decision."

Daryl couldn't listen to anymore. He turned around and slipped away as quietly as he possibly could. He ran for the most isolated place he could find, the guard tower. He shooed away the person on watch, promising to cover the rest of their shift. He curled up in the corner, his sights trained on the woods and any danger that might be hiding within. It was hours later when Rick found him there. Daryl pretended not to notice him until Rick stepped right in front of Daryl, blocking his view of the woods. "We need to talk." Rick's voice brokered no argument.

"What about?" Daryl started picking at his cuticles.

Rick crouched down. "Daryl, look at me."

Daryl forced himself to, even though he desperately didn't want to. "What is it?"

"Are you in love with me?"

_Deny it! He'll be too embarrassed to press. Deny. Deny. Deny._ "Yes." _Idiot!_

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just don't want you to hate me. Please don't hate me."

Rick looked so sad. Daryl hated that he kept making Rick sad. He wanted Rick to be happy more than he wanted almost anything else in the world. Yet somehow Daryl so often said things that made Rick's face fall. He hated it. "I'm going to try something," Rick said.

"What?"

Rick moved closer to Daryl, so that they were breathing the same air. Daryl was tempted to hold his breath so that Rick could have the air all to himself. "You know, I've been thinking about them too. I can't get her voice out of my head. But we are not children of the Aryans and we _don't _have to live by their rules. This new world, it's whatever we choose to make it."

"Okay," Daryl whispered.

"So I'm going to try something, and if it's bad, just stop me."

"What are you going to do?"

Rick answered by moving even closer and pressing his lips against Daryl's. Daryl was too stunned to do anything. Rick ran his tongue over Daryl's teeth and used the strength of his jaw to pry Daryl's mouth open. Daryl felt himself be pushed back until he was leaned against the wall of the tower. Rick put a hand on the wall on either side of Daryl's face. Daryl felt Rick push deeper and deeper into his mouth. Daryl ran his fingers through Rick's curls. He put a hand on Rick's waist and felt the warmth of his body. Daryl moaned into Rick's mouth and then turned red with embarrassment. He was tempted to run away, but there was nowhere he could run to.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No," Daryl whispered into Rick's mouth. "Don't ever stop."

Rick laughed. The sound waves filled Daryl's mouth and spilled down his throat, bouncing off the walls of his neck and making him tingle with pleasure. "Okay Daryl."

…

Daryl was whittling some arrows when he heard the familiar sound of Hershel's prosthetic banging on the ground. Daryl got to his feet, trying to pretend that he hadn't heard and that he just so happened to decide to leave the area right before Hershel entered. "Daryl,"

Hershel was too close for Daryl to pretend he hadn't heard. The two of them were alone in this section of the prison yard, and there were no other sounds that could have covered Hershel's voice. Daryl looked up at the older man. "Hey, you need something?"

"No," Hershel said. "Do you?"

Daryl shook his head. "I was just about to go put these in the armory."

"Well maybe that can wait a moment," Hershel said. "How's your pain?"

"Hardly hurts at all anymore," Daryl said. "You and Dr. S did a good job."

Hershel nodded. "You've been avoiding me," Hershel said bluntly.

Daryl tried to brush off the accusation. "I've just been busy."

"You haven't," Hershel said bluntly.

Daryl was unable to meet Hershel's gaze. "Alright, maybe I haven't."

"Did I do something to offend you?"

Daryl shook his head. "Course not. What could you have done? You saved my life."

"So why have you been avoiding me?"

How could Daryl explain? How could he tell Hershel that he was just waiting for the old man's son-in-law to let Daryl's secret slip? How could he tell Hershel that he had been avoiding him because he was afraid of the inevitable lecture? How could Daryl say that he had heard enough people sermonize at him to last him a lifetime? If Daryl explained the situation then Hershel would know and the bible would come out. Daryl couldn't bear to be condemned by someone he had so much respect for. Daryl realized he had been silent for a while. "I…"

"I can't imagine why you should feel uncomfortable around me all of a sudden."

"It's nothing to do with you," Daryl assured the man.

"Are you sick? If you are-"

"I'm not sick," Daryl snapped. "There's nothing wrong with me."

Hershel's eyes widened at the sudden sharpness. "I didn't say there was."

Daryl rubbed at his temple, which was starting to throb. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be," Hershel said. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay, but if I'm exacerbating the situation, whatever it may be, then I'll go." Hershel hesitated. "Daryl?"

Daryl looked up, finally meeting Hershel's eyes. "Yeah?"

"Do you want me to go?"

Daryl shook his head. "No, I just… I don't want you to think less of me."

"Why would I do that?"

"Yesterday, I kissed… a person. Well he kissed me, but I kissed him back."

Hershel nodded. Huh, that wasn't the reaction Daryl was expecting. "You thought that I would disapprove of this? Perhaps I might bring out my bible and start reading about eternal flames and the gnashing of teeth?" Hershel gave Daryl a knowing look. That had been exactly what Daryl had thought, but the way Hershel was talking now made it seem like that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. "I have spent most of my life trying to figure out the true meaning of God's word. I've read the bible more times than I can count. The only thing I have discovered for a certainty is that I know nothing. I'm just a man. I'm not the Almighty. I would never presume to judge you. I _couldn't_ ever presume to judge you even if I wanted to."

Daryl gaped at Hershel. "Really?"

Hershel nodded gravely. "Really," he said.

Daryl looked at his feet. "I'm sorry, for avoiding you."

"Well I forgive you. We're family after all."

"Thank you," Daryl whispered.

Daryl felt Hershel place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze. "Don't ever be ashamed of who you are son. There are a lot of bad people in the world, but you are not one of them."

Daryl nodded. "You're pretty wise old man."

"I think it's the beard," Hershel said. "Long white beards are like wisdom conductors."

Daryl snickered. "That must be it."


	10. Epilogue

Daryl was counting supplies. He and Carol were doing this job together, but she had started in the kitchen and probably wouldn't be joining him in the pantry for another fifteen minutes or so. When he heard footsteps behind him he dismissed them, assuming that he had miscalculated Carol's efficiency. "Are you and my dad sleeping together?" Daryl dropped his clipboard onto the ground and whirled around. Carl was standing in the pantry's doorway, looking as nonchalant as you please. "Zack said you are. He said Beth overheard Maggie telling Glenn that you and my dad are having sex and that Glenn's an idiot for not noticing on his own."

"Maggie said that huh?"

"Yeah, and Beth heard her, and she told Zack, and he told me."

"Well Zack has a big mouth, and so does Beth, and Maggie too for that matter."

"So are you?"

Daryl was tempted to stall with an 'am I what,' but he respected Carl too much to treat him like a stupid kid. "Shouldn't you be asking your dad about this," Daryl asked the child.

"Ew, I'm not going to ask my dad about sex. That's gross."

"But you'll ask me?" That made no sense to Daryl.

"Sure, you're cool."

Daryl wanted to shake his head, but he restrained himself. "If I'm going to answer your question will you answer one for me first?" Daryl wanted to run far, far away, but with Carl blocking the door that wasn't an option. He would have to deal with this, alone.

"Only if you promise to answer mine after," Carl said.

"I promise," Daryl said.

"Go ahead," Carl said.

"If I am sleeping with your dad, hypothetically, does that bother you?"

"Well, hypothetically, do you love my dad?"

Daryl's breath caught in his throat. "Very much."

"And hypothetically, do you make him happy?"

"I hope so."

"And does he, hypothetically, make you happy?"

Daryl felt like the walls were closing in on him, but he stayed strong. "Very much."

"And would you ever do anything to hurt him, hypothetically?"

"No, I never would. I would never hurt anybody in this family, hypothetically."

"Then I guess I wouldn't mind. Even if it is kind of weird. I guess I thought if my dad ever did find someone again it would be someone like mom. But I really like you," Carl said.

Daryl couldn't help but to smile. "Thank you," Daryl said.

"So?"

"So what?"

Carl sighed. "Grown-ups," he mumbled. "Are you?"

"Oh right, I got lost in all of those hypotheticals. Yes, we are."

"Well," Carl said. "Since you're kind of like my stepmom now-"

"Stepdad if anything," Daryl said in an affronted tone.

Carl shrugged. "Whatever, since you're my stepdad now you have to take me hunting."

"Why is that the rule," Daryl asked.

"You have to bond with your step kids, duh. This is all written down somewhere."

"I think you're lying, but we'll go hunting again."

"Sweet, see you later."

Daryl watched Carl run off. He couldn't quite believe what had just happened. Had Carl really just given him his blessing? Was he really being so blasé about the matter? Daryl walked out of the pantry and saw Carol standing there. He sighed. "You heard all of that, didn't you?"

Carol nodded, a huge cheeky grin on her face. "Yep,"

"Why didn't you help?"

"If you had needed my help I would have," Carol said. "Come on, we have work to do."

Daryl nodded and got back to work. Working with Carol calmed him. She chatted about supplies, new people and job rotations. Daryl lost himself in her voice. He absorbed everything she said, knowing he never had to respond unless he wanted to. When the inventory was done Daryl took his leave. Daryl made his way to C block. Beth was playing with Judith. Beth had brought out the blocks that Daryl had brought back from one of his runs. Beth would hand the blocks to Judith and try to get her to place them to spell out people's names. Judith just stuck the wooden toy into her mouth and gummed it. Beth giggled. She handed Judith another block and explained that it was a B for Beth. "This is an e, and a t, and an h. When you put them together they spell Beth. That's me." Judith stared at Beth with large uncomprehending eyes. "Got it?"

Daryl snorted in amusement. "I don't think she does."

Beth rolled her eyes. "I know that, but early exposure to language is good for babies."

"Yeah?" Daryl walked up and scooped the infant into his arms. Judith shrieked with delight, loudly. Several people poked their heads out of their cells, but Daryl ignored them.

"Yeah," Beth said. "I read about it in a book."

Daryl bounced Judith in his arms. "When were you reading baby books?" Judith laughed and shrieked some more. Spit bubbles formed at her mouth and Daryl gently wiped them away.

"I was thinking about majoring in early childhood development when I went to college."

Daryl nodded at Judith. "Beth's a baby expert Judy, ain't that lucky for you?"

"Don't say ain't to her. I want her to only pick up proper English," Beth said.

Daryl rolled his eyes. "In Georgia that is proper English."

Beth rolled her eyes right back. "Whatever, so how about you?"

"How about me what?"

"Why are you so good with babies?"

Daryl shrugged. He'd never really thought he was. Judith seemed tuckered out from all of her laughing and shrieking, and she was now tucked against his chest. Daryl could feel her tiny heartbeat and shallow breaths. "Little Asskicker and me are just kindred spirits is all," he said.

Beth scrutinized him. "Did you have one, before?"

Daryl stared at the young woman for a few moments before shaking his head. "No."

"Did Merle? Were you an uncle?"

Daryl shook his head again. "If he ever had a kid neither of us knew about it."

Beth wrinkled her nose in distaste at the implication of that. "Little brother or sister?"

"I was the youngest," Daryl said.

"There has to be some reason you're so good with babies."

"Maybe it's just paternal instinct," Daryl said.

Beth shrugged. "Maybe. Do you have her? I'm going to look for Zack."

Daryl nodded. "Get out of here girl." Daryl waited a few moments before hollering after her loud enough for everybody to hear. "Don't do anything your daddy wouldn't approve of!"

Beth turned around and stuck her tongue out at him before disappearing. Daryl snickered as he took Judith up to the perch, scooping up her duck toy as he climbed. Judith snuggled tighter into him, using him as a space heater and a blanket. Daryl sat down with her cradled in his arms.

"Listen girlie, that dating thing isn't going to work when you get that age. I don't want you messing with any boys. They are loud, gross and obnoxious. Trust me, they ain't worth it."

"Thanks." Daryl looked up and saw that Rick was standing there, grinning.

"You're the exception," Daryl assured him.

Rick sat down next to him. Daryl handed Rick his daughter. Rick held the baby close to him and whispered to her. "He's right. No dating for you until you're twenty-one."

"Twenty-five," Daryl said.

Rick laughed. "You heard the man."

"So Carl-"

"Told me," Rick interrupted. "He said you didn't like being called stepmom."

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Kid thinks he's hilarious."

"He told me he's glad I'm happy, even if it's not with Michonne. He was really gunning for that apparently." Rick smirked at Daryl. Daryl shook his head. "But you're pretty good too."

Daryl could just picture Carl saying that. "So you are?"

Rick gave Daryl an inquisitive look. "Are what?"

"Happy,"

Rick smiled at Daryl. He leaned forward and gave him a chaste kiss. "Very."

"Good," Daryl said. He smiled at Rick. "That's good."

"And you?"

Daryl gently brushed one of Judith's soft tufts of hair from her eyes. "I'm happy too."

…

**Later**

_The smell was awful. It was salt and copper, and it was a horrific breed of familiarity to a hunter. There wasn't anything unique about the smell of human blood, but knowing that it was human made all the difference. Knowing that it was yours, that it was leaking out of you without your permission and you could do nothing about it, was the worst part. Yet he would gladly endure the scent of his own blood in his nostrils, the sensation of a ton of bricks on his lungs and the pain that traveled up and down his body like an electric shock if it only meant that he would get to stop hearing that accursed sound. If he didn't have to hear her cry out in pain anymore then he would gladly die here. However, he had to endure both. The one-eyed man was here and he had no intention of letting up anytime soon. The one-eyed man derived his pleasure from their suffering. The one-eyed man would draw out that suffering as long as he could. He would torture them until their minds broke and their souls shriveled up like rotten fruit in the hot sun. When a body was all that remained, only then would they be allowed to die. When there was nothing left but desecrated flesh torn into strips hanging over pools of blood, then they would get to die._

_He felt a hand grip his chin. It was his turn again. It was his turn to feel the fist, or the knife or maybe even the whip again. He heard laughter and felt breath on his skin. The stink of gingivitis distracted from the scent of blood, but not nearly enough. "I wonder what your brother would say if he could see this? Do you think he would regret throwing away his life for you?"_

_He wanted to tell the one-eyed man off, but even if he could be comprehensible through the gag he wasn't sure if he had the energy for speech. Breathing was hard enough on its own._

"_Well, let's get back to it, shall we?"_


End file.
